The Art of Distracting
by julian-juliana
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, who are known for being smooth and seductive with the ladies, are duking it out with each other over Hermione Granger. Both Slytherins will go to great lengths to win her over and will be humiliated, beaten, and verbally abused in the process. They have until Christmas to achieve what they both desire or else...
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Art of Distracting**

Rating: T+ (For raunchy kissing, raunchy humor, swearing, heavy innuendo, violence, and some gore) In some chapters, there will be some M-ish stuff.

Setting: This story takes place in a world where Voldemort met his ultimate demise at the end of _Goblet of Fire_, and I will eventually explain how the freak met his demise. The fic starts off at the second week of Year Seven.

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, who are known for being smooth and seductive with the ladies, are duking it out with each other over Hermione Granger. Both Slytherins will go to great lengths to win her over and will be humiliated, beaten, and verbally abused in the process. They have until Christmas to achieve what they both desire or else…

Warning: This fic contains questionable humor at questionable times: mention of characters' deaths, bigotry, and sexism, mention of attempt rape and murder, and gives an inside view of some of the Slytherins' minds. Read at your own risk.

* * *

"I thought you were going out for Quidditch this year, Theo," Draco Malfoy said to his friend with an arched brow. "You said you would."

"I lied." Theodore replied evenly. He captured some movement coming from across the Great Hall. Against his will, the departing sway of Hermione Granger's curls hypnotized him for a temporal moment. When she was out of sight, he was able to focus on his mate and hoped Draco hadn't noticed his distraction. He hurriedly snapped his eyes back on the boy's pale face. Draco seemed to distracted, too, only for longer. His focus was on the Great Hall entrance where Hermione had just been.

To someone who by chance had watched Theodore Nott, they would see a handsome lad with stoically blank features and desolately empty eyes. Much like his friend Blaise Zabini, he took great pleasure of mimicking a statue and observing his surroundings. Unlike Zabini, who had a salacious smirk glued to his face always, Nott displayed no emotion ever. If one were to catch him contort his facial muscles, they would probably see him flare his nostrils. However, he was gifted in the department of nonverbal insults. Without twitching a muscle on his face, loud and clear he could call someone an idiot, ponce, prat, and etc. Draco and Blaise were jealous of this talent. Both of them asked him to teach them the art of silent invectives, but their friend just merely stared at them and said monotonically, "It's not something you can learn or practice. You either have the gift or you don't."

While Draco's attention was still on the entrance, Theodore silently abused him before eyeing the pancakes on his own plate with severe contemplation. He wondered if Hermione like pancakes. And if she did, would she prefer maple syrup or something fruity to garnish with? Did she slab on the butter because she craved that sort of saltiness with her sweet? Or did she spread it thinly to maintain that delicious little figure of hers? Did she even use butter on her pancake at all? Perhaps she was like some of the other girls he had seen glop on peanut butter, instead. Theodore bet Hermione was of the crunchy variety. One would think creamy; a goody two shoes like her would never go for sporadic nuttiness. The Slytherin detected that gleam in her eye, though. You know _that_ gleam. She was the adventurous type. Books may be her life lover, but excitement was her mistress.

He also wondered if she preferred blonds or brunets, and that thought got tossed in the furnace. He didn't bloody care what that bint preferred! He was going to make Hermione his by Christmas, and friend or no friend, Draco Malfoy could go eff a duck.

But how to go about doing it was the question. The seventh year was upon them, and Theodore knew there was no time to waste. He was rather unworried about Draco's mutual fatuation. If the lad did have feelings for the bird, he'd never tell her. Nothing tasted more like disownment than courting a Mudblood when one was a Malfoy. Theodore was not worried of such things. Father was dead, and it was about bloody time. He had always told his father, 'Watch out' and 'One of these days…' and lo and behold Hermione Granger, the object of his affection. You see, Nott Sr. had a weakness for vibrantly young, female Mudbloods. Unfortunately, no missing witch descended from Muggle parents had ever been traced to dear old Dad until Granger.

Theodore would like to think if his father had never forced him into an Unbreakable Vow at the tender age of six regarding the man's illicit activities; he would've turned the wretched coot in long ago.

Ten years later following that Vow, Granger had walked around Hogsmeade, sucking on a lolly with a long stick, cheeks flushed from the wintery cold, and looking every bit of a prey to an abhorrent, ex-Death Eater. When she passed an alley, a gloved hand gripped her bicep and pulled her into the darkness. Twenty seconds later, she emerged without her lolly and her coat halfway unbuttoned. She shook a bit as she stumbled towards a signpost to stabilize her body. With the metal supporting her, Granger howled out a, "HELP!"

Every male Gryffindor's (and the Weaselette's) ear in the vicinity perked at the plea yelped from their Queen and quickly made haste towards her, Potter and Weasley leading the way with determined jaws and ready wands. A peering Ravenclaw, Lovegood, had retold the picture saying it was quite the scene, like something out of a Muggle film. Gryffindor boys from year three and up sprinted with purpose across the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, wands drawn and prepared for extermination on the one who had provoked such a heart-clenching request for salvation.

When the curly-haired temptress had spotted her two main bodyguards leading the merry band of bodyguards-in-waiting, on shaky legs like a foal, Hermione drifted towards them with a lone tear slipping down her flushed cheek and dropping off her quivering chin towards the frozen earth below her feet. She flung her arms around Potter while Weasley rubbed her back comfortingly, both boys asking what was wrong. Between sniffles, Granger had managed to turn in Potter's embrace and point back towards the alley. Weasley caught eyes with the Finnegan and Thomas behind him who gave simultaneous nods before creeping towards Hermione's reason for beckon.

"Bloody hell!" Thomas had exclaimed, his face losing a few shades of color.

"There's a lollypop sticking out of his eye!" Finnegan gasped. "And blimey! He looks just like old Nott Senior!"

"I think it is old Nott Senior, Seamus!" Thomas cried.

While Weasley, Weaselette, and Potter comforted their royalty, the other Gryffindor boys filtered towards the alley to catch a look and soon enough, the law got involved. Statements were taken from Granger and some of the other classmates.

And then the media got involved.

"He attacked me," she had solemnly told the sea of reporters who foamed at the mouths with their Quick-Quills at the ready.

"Miss Granger, is it true you killed Mr. Nott with a lollypop?" Rita Skeeter inquired, intrigued.

"No comment." Mr. Granger's Muggle eyes glared at the audience and wrapped his arm protectively around his daughter's much smaller frame and escorted her away with Arthur Weasley leading them.

The ultimate demise of Theodore's dad had occurred only days before the Christmas hols. It was such a lovely present. Desperately, he wanted to thank the witch personally for not just what she had the guts to do, but for setting him free. Before his father's death, Theodore simply just wanted to watch Granger feast on an ice cream cone while studying beside the Black Lake and then escort her to his favorite table in the library and shag her on top of it. Don't get him wrong, he still wanted to do that.

But he wanted to put a ring on her first.

Theodore never did get the chance to thank Hermione in person. The feisty little bird did not return to Hogwarts after Christmas. Rumor had it that Granger's parents kept her home and had thrown a right fit when hearing news their daughter was attacked by a serial killer with malicious intent to kidnap, rape, and murder.

She was back, though, for the Seventh Year, however. She looked good and sounded well, Theodore mused, when he had watched her in their shared classes. Her hand was raised and brown eyes sparkled with hunger to consume knowledge. He may even call her brilliant. She was the kind of witch he needed: smart, witty, feisty, and beautiful—Perfect wife and mother material.

Now, if he could just convince her that he wasn't bonkers like his dad, the first step in 'Hermione will be my fiancé by Christmas' could be checked off.

Theodore hesitated at the entrance of Professor Snape's classroom, scanning for curls the color of milky hot chocolate. He zeroed in on the tresses and refrained from scampering towards his lass like a lovesick puppy. Instead, he swaggered towards her. He was a Slytherin and a male. This was how he was taught to attract a female's attention: loosen the arms but not the shoulders, chin out and don't move the hips but make sure knees are always bent; favor one side even though you have not an injury, the imbalance draws in attention.

He plopped his bum on the stool next to Granger and realized his Slytherin Strut was all for naught. Her eyes were stuck to the pages of the Double Potions textbook while her right hand scribbled down some notes on her parchment. When she had sensed a presence by her, she halted her writing and flicked her gaze to the side. When those brown eyes noticed the green and silver tie, they widened and slid upwards to see the face to whom the tie belonged to.

Color drained from Hermione's face, and Theodore apprehended belatedly that perhaps he should have been more subtle in his approach. Instead of stealing her neighboring chair like he had every right to be there with his late father's attempt on her virtue and life, he maybe should have sent her a polite note or even smiled at her across the classroom when she answered a question right.

Damn. He had yet to even start on his list and already he was botching it up. Cripes, he was a Slytherin and sexy as he was suave, so he couldn't let her know that he was stupidly embarrassed by his rested his forearm on the table and lifted the corner of his mouth and gave her an undaunted smirk. Granger's upper and lower eyelashes connected in a blink, her orbs unreadable and contrasting with the continuing loss of color in her cheeks.

Say something, you fool! he shouted at himself.

"Granger," he purred and frowned when her bottom lip trembled. He tried to think of something, anything to calm her but bristled when he saw her small hand squeeze around her quill, and Theodore imagined the writing instrument lifting from the parchment and shooting towards his left eye.

He gulped.

"I'm so sorry!" she burst, startling him out of his thoughtful demise. The quill fell from her loosened grip while sobs wracked her entire body. Theodore watched her lean forward to rest her forehead on the desk, her curly hair shielding her tear streaked face. Her shoulders stuttered, and he fought the urge to run a soothing hand down her back. He worried if he touched her, she might reconsider the quill.

Nervously, he shifted his gaze around. Snape had yet to arrive but most of the other students were present, and Granger's chokes were drawing attention.

"Psst!" heard Theodore from behind and shifted his gaze to Pansy.

"What did you do?" she whispered, her head tilting towards the sobbing girl.

"I-I, " he stuttered out with a helpless shrug.

"Well, fix it before Potter and the Weasley Girl get here. If Thomas," she gestured to a seething Dean Thomas across the room, "looks like he's about to murder you, those two will."

It was Theodore's turn to blanch. Thinking on the quick, he bowed his head towards Granger and whispered lovingly, "Hermione."

Her hiccupping shoulders seized, but sniffling was still heard. With hope, he watched her turn her head and eye him warily through the coild pieces of her hair. Theodore swallowed and pulled out his handkerchief he kept on hand for moments like these. It was in _The Slytherin Male Handbook of the late Twentieth Century_ on page 32, Rule Eight. _All Slytherin Males of courting age must carry a handkerchief in case a lovely, yet sorrowful, maiden is in a state of requiring of such. There is a high chance this lovely maiden will be grateful and sooner or later will grant you permission to shag her._

Reproachfully, Granger straightened up and hesitantly accepted the handkerchief and dabbed her sopped cheeks with it.

"I'm sorry," she wetly repeated and sniffled.

"For what?" Theodore felt a deep crevice dig in between his eyebrows. Hermione gaped at him and blinked in shock.

"F-for your dad," she answered, her chin beginning to tremble again.

Theodore blinked and was about to tell her that she did him and the rest of the world a favor by offing him when a large shadow descended up on them. He and Hermione turned to see Draco, Blaise, Harry, and Ginny staring at them.

"Theo," Blaise started, his eyes flicking over at Hermione and taking in her teary face. "What are you doing?"

"Hermione?" Ginny whispered gently before sending Theodore a murderous glare. "Is he bothering you?"

"Get away from her, Nott!" Harry seethed and whipped out his wand and pointed it at him. "Now!"

"Harry-" Hermione tried to intervene, shaking her head and gesturing he put his wand away.

"I think that's a good idea, Theo. Let's go sit somewhere else," Draco calmly added, and Theodore nodded slowly and stood up to leave.

"No, no," said Hermione. "You sat by me for a reason. What did you want to say?"

Her dark pools of chocolate were red rimmed but inquisitive. She was giving him a chance. This was not how things were supposed to flow. It was just supposed to be them, him and Hermione and not all of class listening in.

"Uh…I just wanted to say…I'm…not mad at you." Theodore shoved his hands into the pocket of his trousers and looked down at his shoes. It was then when Professor Snape arrived with an icy demand towards his students for them to find a seat. Harry appeared to be a short breath away from tearing off his own skin to make room for his fury but relented to his girlfriend's tugging. They sat at the neighboring desk, both stabbing Theodore with scowls.

Blaise and Draco shot him identical expressions that spoke volumes. They visually scolded him for being a nutter and to be careful of the witch who killed one of the most perverse Death Eaters with a lollypop—his dad. His friends then situated themselves on the opposite of Harry and Ginny.

Theodore sat back down on the stool and thought he might as well get his textbook out and parchment for notes. Snape was lecturing about the dangers of mixing dragon's blood with werewolf venom and dared hope the class could eventually be trusted with such a task by end of term exams.

The Slytherin gently nudged his elbow next the Gryffindor's. She looked over at him, tears leaking from the corners. He offered her a smile. A real smile. Not a smirk. She sighed heavily and cast her watery gaze away from him like she was ashamed of herself, and he frowned and contemplated kissing her but brushed that idea away. His father probably tried the same thing and look where that got him.

Theodore was grateful that they were not assigned a potion knowing it would be bloody awkward to work with Granger. When class was dismissed and she was gathering her notes and textbook, he placed his hand on her arm. She jolted in alarm and gasped, so he unhanded her with an apology in his eyes and right on his tongue.

Hermione looked at him like he was a madman and dazedly gazed somewhere far off before settling on him again.

"You're apologizing to me?" she tearfully asked. "Why? I'm the one that-"

"I told you. I'm not mad. I'm not angry. I'm…Hell, Granger," he shrugged and half-smiled. "He had it coming."

"B-but he was your dad." Hermione wiped at her cheeks with his handkerchief.

Theodore scoffed. "Only by blood,"

"I thought blood was everything to you," she assumed and looked down at her bejeweled ballet flats sticking out beneath the hem of her school robes. They were quite darling on her cute, little feet.

"Not to me," he emphasized and chanced touching her arm once more. This time, she was not startled but did question the contact with a conflicted expression. "I want to talk to you. Alone. It can be in a public setting, but I really think we should talk."

She sucked in her bottom lip like she was pondering his words before bobbing her head up and down. Theodore smiled at her encouragingly.

"Tomorrow after classes, yeah? Meet me by the Black Lake." He gathered his belongings and made his way to the hallway, Draco and Blaise close on his tail.

"You really have gone around the twist, haven't you?" Blaise called after him and caught up with him on his left side.

"Did the prig try to kill you?" Draco asked, walking by Theodore's right side. "Like try to stab you with her quill, or something?"

"What were you thinking sitting by her?" Blaise inquired with a baffled expression.

"Because, you daft cad, I got to bloody thank her for offing the old man! Brilliant, she is!" Theodore's mates watched the boy's eyes glaze over in awe and snickered. "I mean, with a lolly! Shite on a broomstick, she didn't even use her wand. Dear Father probably thought he hit the pudding when seeing Granger all alone in her cutesy, pink snow cap and rainbow swirl candy. Sick bastard probably thought it'd be easy. From what I heard, the struggle didn't even last a minute."

Draco and Blaise eyed their friend circumspectly but continued to follow him to their next class, Ancient Runes. Granger was there, but Theodore stayed clear of her much to his friends' approval.

* * *

The next morning when Theodore was straightening his green and silver tie in the loo mirror, Draco came up beside him and started fiddling with his own.

"How do you reckon Coroner got Head Boy?" Theodore asked and instead of answering, Draco asked a question of his own.

"Do you fancy the Mudblood, Theo?"

Theodore paused his working fingers and cast Draco's reflection a glance. "Do you?"

Again, Draco did not answer and asked another question. "Is this the part where you back of and agree I am better suited for her?" Draco smirked at his mate in the mirror who scowled at him.

"I'm not backing off," hissed Theodore. "The bint's mine, and you must be smoking gillyweed out your arse if you think you're better suited for her."

"My father has never tried to kill her," drawled Draco with a scoff, and Theodore bared his teeth in retaliation.

"Not yet, but I wouldn't put it passed him to try, and he will if he discovers your affection for her."

"Good then!" Draco growled. "I will announce it in my next letter home. I wonder what kind of improvised weapon Granger will have on her person when Lucius attacks her. I need to prepare myself for his postmortem form and what might be sticking out of it. I can't bloody wait!"

"She won't have to kill him because I will be with her, and if I even sense your ponce of a father near her, well…send my apologies to your mum."

"Granger's mine! She's my Mudblood, and the second my father dies, I'm going to put his horrid mother's ring on her!"

"Unless Lucius does plan to attack Granger or perhaps has some fatal illness, I foresee no demise regarding him. And you can't put your wretched grandmother's ring on her because my mother's ring will be there." Theodore fueled and added. "I will have Granger by Christmas. We will marry the day after graduation. I hope for your blessing. I do need a best man, after all."

"I'll have Granger pregnant by Christmas," cackled Draco.

"Like hell!" howled Theodore and lunged at him, tackling him to lavatory floor, pinning his shoulders down, and howling into his face. "Like she'd shag you! She hates you. She's not going to grant permission for you to touch her in a million years!"

"I do like a challenge," snickered Draco.

"There's no way you'll get into her pants by Christmas."

"There's no way you'll get a ring on her by Christmas."

"Watch me. She'll love me. She'll see that I'm nothing like my father, and I will charm the knickers off of her…on our wedding night. I don't need to fertilize my seed to buy the cow. I'll buy that beauty and then plant the seeds because a girl like that deserves a white wedding."

"She deserves a lot more than that!" Draco spat. "I love her, and I will give her anything that she wants."

"Good because she's going to want you to leave her alone."

"Not if I turn the Malfoy Charm on her. No lady can resist it."

"Granger is not a lady, Malfoy, she's a Gryffindor. She will be immune and think you are simply humiliating her."

"Fret not, Nott!" Draco darkly chuckled. "Mark my words. I'll have that harpy of a Mudblood as my wife, and I, too, need a best man at the wedding."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to **amama123 **for your review. Thanks to all my readers, and I would very much appreciate any comments and reviews.

This chapter has more Theo in it, but next chapter there will be Draco. :)

Enjoy Chapter 2

* * *

Theodore checked his reflection, pulled at his tie, and rolled up the cuffs of his white uniform shirt. He ran a purposeful hand through his brownish-blonde hair to revive some of the mellowed spikes from that morning and stopped by the kitchens to pick up his gift for Granger. When he exited the castle and started towards the Black Lake, he scanned for his prey and found her resting by the bank with a book in hand and the sun shining brightly upon her.

Being ephebic and healthy Slytherin had many perks and being spry and quiet was one of them. He was able to slither up to her and stick his gift in front of her face thus evoking a startled gasp from her delectable lips.

"Ice cream?" he offered the cone, and Hermione blinked a few times to take in the frozen dessert that was inches from her nose. "It's dark chocolate with peanut butter chunks."

Mesmerized, he watched the minx's pink tongue dart out and wet her lips with a lusty gaze, enthralled by the delightful surprise.

"It's your favorite, yeah?" he asked.

"How did you know?" she asked breathily and low, eyes still trained on the ice cream.

"Well…" Theodore paused and debated whether to tell her the truth. He did. "I went to the kitchen and asked the elves to fix up an ice cream cone fit for Hermione Granger. One elf stepped forward by the name of Dobby and presented me with this, said it was your fancy."

"Dobby?" she cooed, and her bright eyes began to glisten with warmth and turned to face him while gripping the cone from his hand. "Did you thank him?"

"D-uh…" No he had not. Damn! He had forgotten about spew. "Of course, Granger."

A blinding smile burst from the delectable corners of her mouth, and her brown eyes got all shiny, and Theodore knew he scored big even though he was lying.

He lowered his bum to the grass and watched her like a sailor to a siren as she brought her lips to the ice cream.

"Mm," she noised happily, and he had to shift a bit and think neutral thoughts. "Thank you, Mr. Nott."

"Call me Theo." He murmured distractedly; though, the way she said 'Mr. Nott' was kind of naughty.

He was entranced by her engaged lips and tongue. That dark red tease of a muscle poked out passed her lips and lapped at the ice cream from the edge of the cone to the tip of the mountain which was when she enclosed her light pink morsels around the top of it.

Suddenly, Theodore felt very warm and flushed but wished for his heavy school robes.

Neutral thoughts! Neutral thoughts!

Bugger, it not working!

Think Quidditch.

Nope.

Professor Sprout!

Nope!

Hagrid!

Nope!

Crabbe!

Goyle!

Crabbe and Goyle _together_.

Theodore sighed in relief and forced his attention elsewhere. At first, he peered out at the Black Lake and then shifted towards the other students out and about and enjoying the late summer weather. That was when he noticed Potter and Weasley coming towards him and Granger. He estimated that he had about fifteen seconds to say what he needed to.

"I think you're pretty."

Not that!

Dear Merlin!

Had he lost all sensibility? Did his brain seep out his ears during the night and hide underneath the pillow? He needed to be smooth and mysterious, not blunt and eager like a…like a…like a Weasley!

Granger's lips hovered hesitantly over her treat and stared at him so long; Theodore was worried they had both missed their N.E.W.T.s, and he had botched the opportunity to of a Christmas themed, marriage proposal.

Is she going say anything? He was afraid to. What if he opened his mouth and something akin to goo goo, ga ga came out?

"Thank you," she whispered and two lovely pink, splotched disks appeared on her cheeks and gifted him a tiny, insecure smile before licking at the ice cream again.

Theodore ran a hand through his hair, half-doing it out of aggravation and half-doing it because he wanted her to think he was dead sexy with mussed hair.

Because he was. The Slytherin mirrors in the lavatories told him so each morning. Granger should be a puddle of Gryffindor Kitty at his feet, but she wasn't. Maybe he should have sans-ed the ice cream. She seemed more interested in that than him. Should he stretch languidly and ensure that she catch a glimpse of his abs from underneath his un-tucked, oxford shirt. She may be more interested lapping at the ice cream from them than her hand.

Well, he bloody well couldn't do that because…

"Ahhhhhh!"

Right. Potter and Weasley arrived promptly. Not a disappointingly second late.

Theodore regretted not trying out for a spot on the Quidditch team because if he had, he'd have the chance to beat that ginger haired oaf of a Weasley into a bloody pulp for attempting to do the same to him.

"Geroff!"

"Ronald!" Granger gasped. He couldn't see her; there was a fist blocking his vision. "Harry, help him!"

"Okay." Theo vaguely heard Potter pipe and somewhat saw The Boy Who Lived's shadow and felt two hands pressing down on his struggling shoulders.

"Harry! No! Help Theodore! I can't believe you two! _Stupefy! Stupefy!_"

The weight from Potter and Weasley was yanked from his form and he heard a thump of bodies colliding with grass covered ground. Granger pocketed her wand and rushed to him and linked her arm around his shoulders as he struggled to sit up.

"I'm so sorry." She said. "Here, let me help you stand."

Exaggerating injury is a piss poor way into getting a bird's special attention, but Theodore hardly cared. He was fine. A busted lip and a black eye never killed anybody. However, he still let out a deep, faux groan of anguish when she helped him to his feet.

"Oh!" She exclaimed at his noise of discomfort. "Are you okay? Nothing's broken is it? Or are you unsure? And look at all these people just staring!"

Theodore felt his left eye begin to swell and throb, so he swept the vicinity with his right. Yep, loads of chaps and ladies watching.

"They didn't even try to help!" She snapped and lowered her arm around his waist because of their height difference. He refrained from informing her that no one with the exception of a few Slytherins would help him because of what his dad tried to do her. "Should I take you to Hospital Wing? Madam Pomfrey will fix you right up."

"I'm fine." Which he was, but that didn't stop him from leaning more into her smaller frame.

"But your lip is bleeding," Granger pointed out worriedly, and Theodore shrugged.

"I'll just clean up a bit back at-"

"Don't be silly!" she huffed and pointed her finger at him. "Stay."

She delved into her satchel and fished out the handkerchief that he gave her the previous day and a little vial full a liquid. She un-stoppered it and doused a bit of whatever it was on the cloth and reached up and dabbed his lip.

"It's just a little medicine. The swelling is already going down. If you want the actual wound gone, though, you'll have to go to Madam Pomfrey."

"This is good." Theodore numbly replied. The gentle and soft hands with the cloth were gently dabbing at his lip and the drifted towards his eye while and sweetly caressing his cheek while she stood on tiptoes. The little angel had no idea what she was doing to him. Probably doing stuff like this all the time for her bodyguards after every Quidditch game and practice.

Jealousy coursed through his veins, and his jaw ticked. He refrained from stooping downward and claiming Granger's lips for himself. It was too soon. Mostly likely, he was passed the point with her that she would not stick something odd yet lethal into his person for instigating a lip-lock. However, she probably would not appreciate it and would seize to be near him ever again. She was kind as she was careful. She was the kind of person, who saw the good in people even when they didn't deserve it but was wary all the same.

"There," she breathed and folded the handkerchief up into a neat little square and handed it to him. "You look almost as good as new." She gave him a small smile which quickly faltered and cast a forlorn gaze at her discarded treat in the grass. "The ice cream."

Theodore dismissively shrugged and accepted the cloth, making sure his fingers brushed against hers. A shivery jolt shot up his spine at the softness of her skin, but Granger looked positively…unaffected. She merely smiled up at him and tossed her satchel over her shoulder indicating that she was abandoning him. He had to think quickly.

"I really am not mad, Granger." He rushed out and swallowed to catch a breath. The smile on her face diminished while her lips pressed together pensively.

"I sense that, and I am befuddled as to why. He was your dad. You must've cared a little."

"I would have been more upset if _you_ hadn't been the one to make it out of the alley, Granger." He braved reaching out and toying with one of her silky curls with his thumb and forefinger, her heavenly brown eyes wide and completely naked for him to see every thought and emotion swirling about in her mind. "I do care, but not about _him_."

Making sure to put extra emphasis on the term 'him' so his little precious would catch on, he witnessed the flicker of realization and the warm flush of pink tint her cheeks. The first step of 'Granger will be my fiancé by Christmas' could be crossed off.

Step Number One: Give the proper signals to Granger ensuring the bint knows his feelings.

Daringly, he bent down and purred into her ear, "I'll see you around, Granger," and brushed his lips at the soft point of her jawbone and twirled on his heel. This time, she would see the swagger. Swaggering away from someone, though, provoked all kinds of temptations like looking back. Theodore was a Slytherin, so he refused. Refusing to spare Granger a lasting look over his shoulder while heading towards the castle entrance gave him more of a mysterious angle. Girls liked mystery, and despite Granger not being like other girls, the curly haired beauty was not an exception.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco Malfoy was having a particularly scurrilous day. No! Make that a whole year because as far as years go, 1997 had to have been the one to take the cake. No! To effin' slaughter the cake and then smear the remnants all over somewhere very, very far out of his reach.

He sighed morosely, jutting out his bottom lip and catching the attention of the Patil twins at the neighboring table in the library.

If he had to be honest, he supposed that the last few weeks of '96 were no good either. After Granger got attacked at Hogsmeade by Nott Sr., everything flew to hell on a Firebolt II. When he caught wind about what that disgusting ponce attempted to do Granger…whatever it is that he liked to do pretty Mudblood girls, Draco was baffled. All he could think was 'what kind of putz would try that with Granger?' Had he no brain? Bloody hell, even Crabbe and Goyle knew to stay away from the swot and as low as obtuse went; those two were right below it.

Nott Senior mustn't have done his homework which was incredibly disappointing. Didn't serial killers observe their prey before swooping down and snatching their morsel?

Draco mused that the man probably could not have with the girl being in school and all. Nott Senior must have simply heard of the darling little Mudblood who was best friends with Harry Bloody Potter in some _Daily Prophet _article or something and mostly likely went bonkers…well…more bonkers. Like a weirdo, he probably patrolled Hogsmeade for weekends on end for who knew how effing long just for the perfect moment. And when he did get it, he was completely unprepared for that tiny little treasure with a rainbow flavored lolly in her fist. Draco even bet that before she dislodged her candy from her hand through his eye and into his brain; she let out some foul, Muggle curse words, taking him by surprise and using that moment to do the deed.

Granger killing Nott Sr. was not the reason the last tidbit of 1996 was so rotten, leading into an inadequate '97. The reason Draco was so upset was because that was when he realized that he fancied the Mudblood because he had begun to wonder what if she had not been carrying that lolly in her hand, and her wand was in an unreachable place.

Gone, she would be.

Forever.

Raped.

Beaten.

Killed.

Or maybe just killed. Nott Senior may have not taken to the loudmouth lioness, and let's be honest, with or without a wand or a lolly stick, Granger would have made it damned difficult for the old fart to kill her.

So bloody stubborn that girl.

Nott Senior would have whipped out a knife and promised to carve the skin off her bones, and she would have cackled and asked if he knew The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood. Her question would send the ick of space into a dumbfounded stupor, and Granger would hack a wad of spit into his face before she showed him one of the uses of her right fist.

But the point was, what if she died?

What if the Mudblood, Hermione Jean Granger, Miss-Know-It-All, and vibrant pain in Draco Malfoy's arse, had been murdered?

That question haunted him throughout his '96 hols. He stayed awake at night picturing the creamy skin of her body a bluish white, not even a hint of life within. Or would there have been any skin left on her body? Would she have been mutilated into something unrecognizable?

Draco would have never seen her again, never again see her raise that rebarbative hand in class, or see those boisterous curls, hear that little girlish guffaw she sported whenever Potter or Weasley said something doltish, and never would he see those freckles again.

Freckles.

_Freckles._

_Freckles!_

He used to hate freckles. He associated those fulsome spots with anything Weasley, but Granger was not a Weasley. Her little dots were brushed across her nose and when she was angry, they darkened and complimented her rouged cheeks nicely.

It had been Christmas Eve of 1996 when he discovered that he loved her freckles and sobbed like a baby in his bedroom when thinking about how a perverse prick tried to rid the world of them. Like a child, he hugged his pillow and rocked back and forth, muffling a mantra of Granger's name into the squishiness. The morning after, his mother had come for him, informing him it was time to open his presents down in the Family Room. Begrudgingly, he followed her down and was saddened to find that Granger was not under the Christmas tree with a luminescent green bow in her hair.

Draco's sullen state worsened when he was forced by his to attend Nott Senior's funeral service. He had to stand there and act despondent when Lucius stood up and gave a speech on what a wonderful and honorable man Nott Senior was. Draco felt ill and cast a glance at Theo who appeared to be biting his tongue. The blonde wizard had blinked in stupefaction. His mate looked like he was seconds away from howling with cachinnation. Well, he kind of knew that Theo was not fond of his father but enough to nearly laugh at the man's funeral?

Draco looked over at Blaise who was smirking, looking every bit as guilty that he thought the dead killer deserved to die. Mother looked repulsed and kept cringing at certain parts of her husband's sugarcoated eulogy. No one stood up and disputed Lucius' words. At least not until the end where he tossed a loving, fatherly smile at Theo and told him that 'justice would be brought down upon the filthy, murderous Mudblood who took your daddy's life. An eye for an eye.'

Theo no longer appeared to be on the brink of amusement, and Draco wanted to dig a hole in the earth for himself so he would no longer have to be associated with Lucius Malfoy. That idea got squashed quickly. If Draco was in the earth, how in the bloody hell was he supposed to protect Mudblood Granger and her maddening freckles from being offed? No, Daddy Dearest needed to be the one pushed into the hole.

Blaise had been closer to Theo and had been the one to grip his arm tightly and whisper in his ear to calm the hell down and not take Lucius' words to heart. If no one was aware before Nott Senior's demise, they knew now: only an utter nitwit would try to kill Granger.

Draco grimaced at the memory and ignored the Patil Twins who were eyeing him like he was white chocolate covered pretzel.

He pushed that troubling thought away and prayed for a cosmic intervention that resulted in the disappearance of his father. Lucius wasn't like Theo's dad who was kidnapping, raping, and murdering Mudbloods on the side of his daily activities. Whatever illicit undertakings the man was affiliating with, it was outside the home, so Draco could not turn his father over to the legal system.

Anyway, Draco has had a bad year. Hermione had not returned to Hogwarts after her winter break, irking him immensely. He had needed to see her, needed to see her alive and freckling.

According Pansy who heard from Daphne who heard from Padma, who heard from Luna, who heard from Ginny that Granger's parents forbade her to return to school due to being scared out of their minds at almost losing their progeny. Rumor had it that they almost didn't let her return for her seventh year but softened when Granger got the privilege of being Head Girl. When Draco saw her from across the Great Hall at the Opening Ceremony, he had hoped that this was his chance. The Mudblood was going to be his, freckles and all.

And then bloody Theodore Nott had to show his intrusive mug like he had any claim on the bint!

Draco mumbled incoherently and pouted once more, vaguely hearing a unison of soft sighs coming from the Patils.

He knew it was going to be a challenge in getting Granger to fancy him, not just because she hated him, but rumor was she fancied the Weasel. They weren't officially an item, but Draco had known if he didn't act hastily, he'd be too late. He never once thought of Theo as another obstacle blocking him from the prize.

Damn! Theo was his friend, and most importantly, Theo wasn't hideous. Girls fell over the bloke just as much as they did Draco. His bleedin' fan club was building, and he was smart. Like brilliant. Granger kind of brilliant. Draco was intelligent, but he was number five in the class and Theo was three.

Usually, Draco would never let a bird get in between him and his mate, but Granger wasn't like other birds. She was the one. You know, The One.

It was a damned shame that Theo thought the same thing because now Draco needed a different plan. His first plan consisted of simply wooing the Gryffindor witch with compliments of her beauty, intelligence, and so on and so forth along with presenting her flowers and candy and rare books from his family library. Yes, he still was going to do all these things, but he assumed Theo was going to do them, too, so Draco was going to have to do it better.

May the best Slytherin win.

The first thing he had to do was actually talk to Granger, somehow uphold a conversation with her. They had never done that before, a simple conversation and all that, so he had to be careful and to be suave. For over five years, Draco called her a Mudblood and even threw a Beaver Teeth jinx at her accidently on purpose in Fourth Year. He had to be gentle like he was treading on priceless artifacts made of thin glass because if he made even the slightest of slipup, he'd be hexed or maybe even permanently damaged.

So when he quickly rushed to Charms that following morning to beat Theo, he spotted Granger alone with no one beside her. He fancied the idea of slithering up to her and asking 'is this seat taken?' but burned it just as quickly. Most likely it was by either Weasley or Potter. He would have to _take_ the seat.

And so he did.

Without a word, he sat his bum on the right side of Granger and began to take out his quill and parchment and set them on the desk.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?"

Draco painted a smirk on his features and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Getting ready for class," he replied with a shrug, and her brown eyes narrowed.

"Why are you sitting by me?"

Way to go for the jugular, Granger, Draco inwardly cringed and scrounged something up to toss back.

"You're the best at charms, and I'm having troubles. Think you could find it in your charitable, Gryffindor heart to assist me?" He drawled and mentally smacked himself in the face. That did not come out at all polite like he hoped, but there was no way he could say the word Gryffindor without venom in his tone. He was a Malfoy for Salazar's sake.

Granger's nostrils flared, and her darling freckles darkened. "If this is some kind of jo-"

"It's not, Granger." He butted in hastily. "I really need help."

"I don't believe you."

"You would deny a bloke help in perfecting his education? Granger, I am appalled."

"I'm appalled that you actually thought I would fall for it. Malfoy, I know that you don't need any help in charms. I'm the professor's PA and corrected all the pretests from our first day of class. I will inform you that you answered all the questions perfectly, so whatever it is that you are up to, I will have no part of it."

"Bloody hell, Granger!" Malfoy snapped and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, you called my bluff. I don't really need help, but I wanted to apologize for everything: for calling you Mudblood, and bullying you, and hexing your teeth."

"Why?"

Draco blinked and growled. "Because."

"Because why?"

He bared his teeth and clenched his fists. She was driving him spare. "Because I find you absolutely lovely and brilliant!"

He expected her to smile or blush but instead she frowned and tilted her chin downwards and pinned her brown eyes on him.

"You think I'm lovely and brilliant." She stated, and her lips clenched together tightly.

"Yes," he whispered. "Very much."

"That's the reason why you're apologizing, not because you feel bad." She said, and Draco eyes bulged and attempted to backup.

"Wha-no, no, no, no, no. I-"

"You're sorry you bullied me because I'm pretty now. It was so much easier to pick on someone who isn't that attractive, right?"

"Granger-" Draco tried.

"No, I get it! I really think I do!"

"No, you don't. I-I like you, okay!" Draco revealed angrily. Merlin, this was not how things were supposed to go and much to his dismay, Granger hardly bat an eyelash at his admission.

"Is this part where you say that you've liked me all along and only pulled on my pigtails to get my attention?"

"What?" Draco had no idea what she was talking about, but she had it all twisted up in the wrong alley. "No! Wait…Ye-"

"So you really bullied me because you hated me, and now you have stopped because you feel some guilt about it since I'm now attractive."

"Merlin, Granger!" Draco snapped. "All you have to say is that you don't like me back!"

His words silenced her, and her mouth hung open. After a few moments had passed, she closed her mouth and blinked.

"There is nothing remotely likeable about you, Malfoy. Though you are attractive, I find you mean-hearted and careless. Besides, I like someone else."

It was Draco's turn to flare his nostrils and sneered at the last thing she said. He cared little that she called him mean-hearted. He was. He did care that she liked someone else.

"Who? Nott?" he inquired nastily.

"It's none of your business, Malfoy." She snipped and folded her arms protectively. "Now go sit somewhere else."

"Yeah, go sit with Blaise. He wants to chat with you anyway." Theo grinned while lowering his bum into the empty chair on Granger's left side. "Hello, Granger."

The witch offered Theo a small but a fake smile, and Draco noticed that she still had her arms crossed indicating that she was still uncomfortable regardless of the other wizard being there.

"I can chat with Blaise later." Malfoy said.

"So, Granger," Theo smirked at her. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," she answered. "Um…can we talk after class?"

Hot, green jealousy erupted within Draco at Granger's question for Theo. He dug his nails into the desk to keep them from lunging and clawing at the other boy's disgustingly smug face.

"Of course," he cooed and boldly touched one of her curls springing from her simple up do.

Charms went by like cold molasses stuck to the hands of time; Draco was on the brink of turning his rigidly clawed fingers on himself. Finally, class ended, and he grumbled as he violently stuffed his things into his bag and stalked out of the classroom. He needed to reform and regroup and re-plan and figure out a way for Granger to like him back, so he skipped all his classes that day and hid back in the dormitories. He burned his old planning list and started anew. He worked through lunch and was just about done when Theo came bursting through the door breathing harshly and appearing rather upset.

* * *

A/N: Tell me what you think! C'mon! It's Malfoy! We love him! Tell me how much you do! I also want to know, because I have yet to write the ending, who Hermione should end up with. Which cuckoo Slytherin should win over the Gryffindor Queen? Theo? Draco? Someone else? Let me know. :)


	4. Chapter 4

"Draco!" Theo howled in contempt.

"What, mate?" The blonde asked worriedly. "Is Granger okay? She's not hurt, is she? You didn't hurt already, did you?"

"What?" Theo contorted his brow and shook his head from side to side. "No! Draco, we have a problem!"

"Problem?"

"Yeah, I've wanted to tell you since Muggle Studies after Charms, but you didn't show up."

"Yeah?"

"You know how Granger asked to talk with me after Charms, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I thought it was because she wanted to tell me that she fancied me and was going to ask me to accompany her to Hogsmeade next weekend."

"She didn't?" Draco questioned hopefully and scrambled off his bed to get closer to Theo.

"No." He shook his head. "Yesterday, I had spoken with her and made it obvious that I liked her, so I kind of expected her to talk about that. But no, mate, she fancies someone else."

Draco swallowed and dared not hope it was him. Granger was painfully honest before Charms on what she thought of him.

"Who?"

"Weasley."

A whimper escaped Draco before he threw himself back on his bed and howled in consternation.

"No!" He whipped his head back and forth. "I won't accept it! I will not be beaten by a weasel! I'd rather be beaten by you!"

"Same goes for you, mate." Theo whispered and stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled towards his bed and sat down with an aggravated exhale. "I mean…I guess we kind of knew that she liked him. Everyone knows if you think about it."

A dry, jagged, humorless chuckle escaped Draco. "Everyone with the exception of Weasley himself."

Theodore nodded solemnly and froze. Draco stilled, and the boys' eyes locked.

"Everyone except Weasley himself," repeated Draco.

"There's a chance that he may even not like Granger more than a friend." Theodore said with a wistful smirk.

"Which means…" Draco mirrored his mate's smirk, "he can be distracted."

"By someone else,"

"But who could pull it off?"

The door burst open, banging against the stone wall and in stepped Pansy Parkinson with tears streaming down her cheeks and a folded up piece of parchment in her hand.

"He broke up with me!" She wailed and charged towards Theodore's bed, climbed upon it, and wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face into his neck.

"Flint!" Draco and Theo growled at each other and each took turns in comforting their friend.

"How could he do this?" Pansy wept, now sniffling against Draco's chest. "Could he have at least waited for a few more days? I'm menstruating for Salazar's sake! Everything seems ten times worse than it actually is!"

The two wizards cringed, and Theodore shuffled through his bedside table and pulled out a Chocolate Frog and carefully approached the witch who was now taking a turn wallowing on Draco and his bed. With a nervous swallow, he stretched his arm ensuring that Pansy would see the treat.

"Give it to me, you despicable, horrible, rat-faced, shit-brained, poor excuse for a wizard!" Pansy screeched right before tearing herself from Draco and tackling Theodore to the floor and yanking the sweet from his trembling hand.

"Pansy," Draco began gently. "Get off Theo. He's not the one that hurt you. Flint did, and the next time I see him, I'm going cast a Slicing Hex on his bits."

Theodore watched Pansy's feral snarl soften into big dewy eyes and a wobbling chin.

"Oh, Pans," Theo said and hugged his friend when she let go of his shoulders and snuggled into his chest. "It will be okay. Flint's a dead man, and there are plenty of worthier wizards to choose from."

"Yeah," Draco agreed, and Theodore saw a spark in his mischievous eyes. "In fact…I saw some bloke eyeing you in Arithmancy yesterday, but you probably wouldn't go for him."

Pansy's back was facing Draco, so failed to see his wicked grin. Theodore saw it and fought the urge to mimic it.

"Yeah, I saw him, too. Couldn't keep his eyes off of you." Theo added gently, and Pansy trembling bottom lip got pulled in by her teeth.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah," Theo nodded his head up and down. "But like Draco said, you probably wouldn't go for him."

"_I'll_ decide if _I_ will go for him!" Pansy seethed, pointing her finger at her chest. "Who was it?"

Draco licked his lips and prayed this would work. "Weasley,"

Pansy blinked at Draco, her face tear stained but completely void of emotion. She was still straddling Theo, and she turned away from the blonde and peered down at him with an unreadable expression for a few moments before releasing a battle cry and smacked the boy beneath her before lunging herself at Draco and began to beat him within an inch of his life.

"What are you idiots trying to pull?" PUNCH! "I'm sad, and you want humiliate me!" SMACK! "You're supposed to be my friends!"

Rubbing his cheeks, Theodore sat up and wheezed out, "We are, Sweetheart!"

"No!" She sobbed. "You're not! Both of you are so mean!"

"Okay, okay, okay." Draco grit out while trying to shield himself from the girl's blows. "We lied. He doesn't fancy you. We just said that because…because…well the truth is, Pansy, Theo and I need him to be preoccupied."

"Preoccupied," said Pansy in an incredulous tone. "Is this some new Quidditch strategy because I can't help you with that"

"No," Theo shook his head. "We need him out of the way for something."

"What do you need him out of the way for?" Pansy asked with a quirked brow.

"It's a secret." Draco stated calmly, and the witch snorted.

"If you want my help, you will tell me what you boys are up to."

"If we tell you, will you help us?" Theo inquired forcefully, and Pansy slit her eyes and bared her teeth.

"Fine," she clipped icily. "Now tell me what you prats are up to."

_Thirty seconds later…_

"I change my mind!" Pansy climbed of Draco's bed and shoved her hands up above her head. "And I cannot believe what I just heard."

"Please," Draco whined.

"Whatever you want, it's yours." Theo offered, and Pansy rolled her eyes and began to pace.

"Both of you are stark, raving mad! You want me to date Weasley, so you two can fight over Granger without having that oaf in the way! That's ridiculous! You two are friends! You know that word! Friends! Granger is just a girl!

"Theodore, there is no way it would be a good idea for you to date her. I know you were chuffed when Granger killed your father, but still…what would you tell your children if you did end up together? And Draco," she turned to the blonde. "Your father would disown you. All your inheritance stashed away to rot in Gringotts."

"She's not just a girl, Pansy." Draco begged.

"I love her." Theodore said.

"Me, too," added Draco.

"Both of you are disgusting! If Salazar were alive…" She huffed and folded her arms and tried to not break under the puppy faces of her friends. "You two will end up hating each other. Why can't you just let this be? When you're a Slytherin, real friends are hard to come by and both of you want to toss away each other over a Mudblood who doesn't even fancy either of you. What if you go through all the trouble, and she doesn't even care? What if she still wants Weasley? Say what you want about him but physically speaking, he's pretty fit. And I am saying that from a neutral point of view, so don't you dare twist my words, boys!"

"We're hoping that Granger will eventually lose interest in the Weasel when she sees that he likes someone else." Theodore informed, and Draco nodded his head.

"And what if it's you?" Pansy asked him and then turned to Draco. "How would you feel about that, Draco? How would you feel if Granger chose him over you?"

Draco swallowed thickly and turned away from the witch's pejorative gaze.

"And Theo, what if Granger chose Draco? Could you handle that?"

Theo grumbled something unintelligible and pinned his eyes elsewhere, too.

"And how are you boys going to feel when you lose, not only each other, but the few that you consider real friends. And when I say that, I mean me." Pansy gaze hardened. "I will not be there to comfort the one who lost or congratulate the victor."

"We will still have Blaise!" Draco argued, and Pansy snarled.

"You think he's going to stick around? I'm sure he'd agree when I say that he will have better things to do."

"We get it." Theodore mumbled. "You won't help us; you think we're idiots."

Pansy spared him a glare and dug her hands into her hips.

"Oh, is that how you're going to be, Theo? Like a child?" She then turned towards a pouting Draco. "You, too, huh? Fine! I will help you but know this. This will be the last thing I ever do for either of you. The deadline will be the last day of school before Christmas break just like you boys both planned. If neither of you have been picked by Granger, then I'm going to tell her and Weasley everything. I might even exaggerate and say that this was all just a game to see who could deflower the Gryffindor Queen first. That way, from January until June, both of you will get to see them console each other and fall madly in love. I even reckon that Weasley will give her a promise ring on graduation day and in exchange, Granger will give him her virtue. Is that all clear to you boys? Are you ready to play now?"

Aghast, Draco and Theodore stared at Pansy like she was Lord Voldemort reincarnated. Fear and apprehension made them rigid and turned to face each other.

"Is she worth it to you?" Theo asked Draco softly.

"Yes," the blonde whispered. "You?"

"Yes," answered the darker haired one.

"Okay, then." Draco nodded and glanced back at Pansy.

"I hate you both." She seethed.

"We need to get planning." Theodore piped in shakily. "Pansy, tomorrow we need you to start getting close to Weasley. Don't come on too eager. Be subtle."

"I know more about boys than you prats know about girls." Pansy spat haughtily. "Don't worry. I'll have that Gryffindor by the time Granger even begins to think either of you as friends."

"Good," Theodore sighed and rubbed his hands together, glad one obstacle was about to be moved.

"So that's Weasley," said Pansy. "What about Potter and Weasley's little sister?"

"Hmm?" Draco noised with worry on his face.

"We won't have to worry about those two. They are already preoccupied with each other." Theodore claimed with a smile.

Pansy tilted her head back and cackled, startling both males.

"You boys are so incredibly daft!" She wheezed and sobered to glare at them for their stupidity.

"Preoccupied with each other? Just because their dating doesn't mean they are not going to notice two Slytherins duking it out over their best friend. Ginny, especially, will notice and then inform Potter who will then inform Weasley and all three of them will hex the living hell out of you both. You need a distraction for Ginny, too. If you can distract her, you can distract Potter."

"How do you suppose we do that?" Theo scoffed.

"Yeah, she's pretty sharp." Draco said with a frown.

"What could we do to make her busy, thus, making Potter busy?" Theo rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

The dormitory door opened and in came a strutting Blaise Zabini.

"Mates," the boy greeted with a smirk which quickly slid off his face at the predatory look all three of them were giving him.

"Hey, Zabini," Draco smiled wickedly. "How do fancy redheads?"

"Especially ones that are already in a relationship?" Theodore inquired with a glint in his eye.

* * *

Once upon a time, Pansy Parkinson was an amazing stalker, and Draco Malfoy was the first object of her affection. Everywhere he went, she was his shadow. When she first took up the hobby, she was rather deplorable. Draco caught her all time. The second object of her affection was Adrian Pucey, and he was a year above her. She knew if she wanted to see him all the time, she would have to get better at becoming undetectable. She practiced, and she got her perv on. Eventually, Pucey was replaced by Marcus Flint which had been damned near impossible to stalk him because by the time she fancied him, he was no longer attending Hogwarts and had been drafted by the Falcons. To enrapture Flint required Pansy to thoroughly get in touch with her Slytheriness. She had to be more than a bitch and conniver. More than just merely slinking in the shadows of Hogwarts. She had to sneak out of Hogwarts…nightly. She couldn't just act like a cold-blooded snake; she had to be one. Quiet and quick through the night, sneaking out of her dormitory and out of the castle to get to Apparition Grounds. She was and still is too young to Apparate by herself, but she had a collection of Portkeys that directed her right at the front door of Flint's flat. Illegally, she would _'alohamora' _his door and creep in undetected and watch him while he slept in his bed. Sometimes…he wasn't alone in his bed.

Pansy had long ago accepted that she was a weirdo, but hey, the stalking paid off every time. Sooner or later, she'd get her man. The relationships didn't last, but that was okay. The fourth object of her 'supposed' affection would lead to a separation, as well, because it was a total sham. On her part, anyway.

All day, she watched Weasley as best as she could. They had most of the same classes, and she was able to watch him from a good angle at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

That night when she climbed into bed, she quilled in her journal all the things she discovered about Ronald Weasley.

_He has gingered hair._

_He has freckles._

_He likes to eat._

_His best friends are Harry Potter and Hermione Granger._

_His best friend, Granger, fancies him. He is oblivious._

_He loves his sister very much and is secretly upset that Potter is dating her._

_He is threatened by Potter's fame and Granger's intelligence and feels like an outcast among friends_.

Pansy tapped her quill on the last line and circled it, nibbling on her bottom lip. This was where she should start.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed. Only Draco got the most votes for the one who Hermione ends up with, so we will see. I still am up for more votes between Theo and Draco, so I hope you review and let me know what you think about anything.


	5. Chapter 5

Pansy entered Professor Flitwick's classroom for Charms. Theo and Draco were on either side of Granger, who sat in the front row close to the professor's desk, both chatting her up animatedly. Blaise had taken the empty seat next to Ginny who was sitting rather cozily next to Potter on the second row. There was not an empty seat next to Potter, so Weasley sat directly behind him on the third row, trying to wedge his way into the his mate's and sister's conversation.

There was an empty seat next to Weasley.

She weaved through other students and settled her textbook, parchment, and quill on the desk next to him. Once she was situated, she flicked her dark hair strategically. She had blood-orange sprits on her neck, and her lips were glossed shiny. The school robes were not the sexiest clothes that she had in her possession, but Pansy had her face. That is all she needed at that moment.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Weasley turn to face her and prepared herself for snark if he chose to speak. He didn't, so Pansy grabbed her quill and opened up her textbook to the lesson. While writing notes, she eavesdropped on the conversation Weasley was trying to be apart of. Potter and Ginny were talking about the Halloween dance coming up in at the end of next month and thinking about going as a matching couple. Pansy refrained from grabbing her wand and gagging herself with it.

Unsurprisingly, Weasley did not have a date and was asking for advice on whom to take. Ginny brushed her brother off and offhandedly suggested Granger. Pansy sucked in a panicked breath, afraid that the boy would raise his head and search the girl out only to find her being walled in by Slytherin boys. She quietly sighed in relief, when he didn't even bother and shrugged grumpily.

"She'd never go with me. I bet she's already got loads of boys asking to take her." He mumbled and exhaled rather loudly.

Pansy bit her bottom lip to refrain from smirking in delight. This was just too bleedin' perfect. Everything was falling into place. She only had to stalk him for one day and sit by him for one class. The three objects before Weasley were never this quick for her. Now all she had to do was wait for the class to end.

"Class is dismissed." Flitwick squeaked and hopped down from his tower of books while Pansy stood up and bagged her belongings, keeping a close eye on the boy beside her. She timed it just perfectly. When her school supplies were gathered, Weasley did, too. He was about walk off, but she caught him by the lapels of his robe and pulled him towards her.

He never had a chance.

Pansy felt Weasley bristle against her lips. His lips were closed, but she hardly cared. She pressed herself firmly against him and grabbed the back of his head. She had to stand on her tiptoes, but that was okay. Her teeth tugged on his bottom lip making him gasp, and Pansy seized the moment to delve her tongue inside and lick his. And like all the boys before him, he moaned and melted into her embrace. Unlike the other boys, Weasley tasted like strawberry glazed pancakes with just the slightest hint of something salty…like bacon and dammit! It was hers for the taking. Roughly, she pried his mouth open even further and made it a mission lick his mouth clean. She felt long, strong arms wrap around her and hands slide up her back and pull her towards him even closer. Hands travelled further upwards and fingers traced her jawline before diving into her hair and pulling her face impossibly closer to his. His tongue was, too, participating and was trying to find something. Pansy was unsure of what, but the muscle stopped momentarily and laid flat against the roof of her mouth before it rolled and vibrated. Her eyes shot wide open, and she expired against his mouth, squealing in surprise. Weasley pulled away from her and stared at her like he had never seen her before these seven years and was amazed.

Pansy was just amazed.

She felt heavy and light all at the same time. It was like her legs had become hallow, so she giggled and rested her unbalanced body against his.

"Oh my," she giggled again and titled her head backwards to get a good look at him. He was rather cute, wasn't he?

"Yeah," Weasley quietly sighed like he was in a daze. He even blinked a few times like he was unsure if he was dreaming.

"Holy shite," came a whisper from not too far. Pansy and Weasley turned their heads to the side see Ginny, Potter, Blaise, and just about everyone else staring at them with their jaws to the floor and eyes hanging loose from their sockets.

Reality smacked Pansy in the face when she saw Granger biting on her bottom lip looking heartbroken. Her brown eyes were glistening, and her cheeks were pink. When their gazes locked, the Muggle-Born witch shut her eyes tightly and opened them again like she was trying to snap herself out of being sad and hurriedly stuffed all of her schoolwork into her satchel before wiggling passed Draco and Theodore and sprinted out of the room.

Granger bolting from the classroom seemed to snap the stupefied students out of their shock. Many of them shook their heads and mumbled things along the line of 'what is this world coming to?' and 'I'm not bothering going to my next class because the Second Coming has arrived' while they filed out into the hallway.

A tiny bubble of guilt formed into the pit of her stomach, but Pansy ignored it. Just like she ignored the death glare she'd been hit with from Ginny right before the witch fled Potter's side to go comfort her friend. Pansy, instead, focused her attention back on Weasley and smiled up at him.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." She lied and slithered away from him to slip her bag over her shoulder and scurry away.

But not too fast.

Expectedly, when she was in the hallway, she heard heavy footfalls behind her. She smirked inwardly and mused that they always come running after her and then ask her on a date.

Pansy faked surprise when she felt hands envelope her waist and whirl around. She _was _surprised when Weasley's lips swooped downward and kidnapped hers and did that vibrating tongue thing before asking what class she had next.

"Divination," Pansy breathed out heavily, and Weasley rested his forehead against hers.

"Skip it." He growled out, and Pansy debated whether or not that was the sexiest thing she ever heard.

"Okay," she agreed and bobbed her head up and down while pinching her brows together, a bit confused about how Weasley came to grip her wrist and guide her to a nearby broom closet.

* * *

Blaise watched the Weaselette bolt out of the Charms classroom after Granger. His progress of distracting the ginger haired witch so far was dismal. She was quite intoxicated off of Potter. When Blaise asked her if she had an extra quill, she spared him a glance and shoved her own into his hand. He was positive that the girl didn't even absorb who was sitting next to her, and she didn't take notes the entire class. Instead, she had rested her head on Potter's shoulder while he took notes. The Boy Who Lived seemed utterly besotted, and Blaise had the distinct feeling he was way in over his head. He felt embarrassed to admit, but there were some girls that could not be led astray and Ginny Weasley may be one of them.

But of course he didn't actually want her to become unfaithful to Potter. He just wanted to make it seem like it in order to distract him away from Granger's business. If he could form a flirty friendship with the Weaselette, Potter would be driven spare and concentrate all his time and energy on keeping the girl's fidelity intact. This, in turn, would keep the witch busy with extra dates, snog fests, and expensive presents.

Blaise smirked wickedly.

She might even get a ring.

He chuckled to himself and made his way to _Advanced_ History of Magic and was pleased to remember that Potter did not have the class but the Weaselette did. She was sitting by Granger, rubbing the girl's shoulder and whispering. Luckily, there was an empty seat next to his prey and stole it before anyone else dared to. He stayed quiet until the professor began lecturing and saw the witch dig into her bag for a quill. Languidly, he stretched his arm towards her face and brushed her nose with the tip of the feather. Her rummaging halted, and she stared at her quill and then dragged her gaze to the boy who had it.

"Here," he spoke low and syrupy. "You can have it back as long as I get to borrow your notes later."

He continued to brush the tip of her nose with the quill, and Blaise found it quite odd that she didn't stop him right away. But then her eyes narrowed and her brows sloped downward, and Blaise halted the brushing. With the wispy feathers still tickling her face, she stripped him with her eyes and not in a good way. To Blaise, it was like she was shedding him bit by bit, starting with his robes, uniform, and then skin, bone, specifically his skull. With her eyes as hammers, she pounded against it, trying to reach his brain and figure out why he dared to sit by her, not once, but twice. Her glaring power was something to behold, and it made Blaise queasy. If she chose to screech out something like _'what were you doing July 10th of 1996?'_; he would be compelled to answer her. _'Why, I was shagging for the first time. Yeah, it was my Muggle olive picker's daughter. Spry thing, she was.'_

Weaselette's mouth formed a snarl and she gripped the tickling quill and yanked it from Blaise's hand with a huff.

"I'll let you see my notes when you can actually beat my team at Quidditch, you slithery git!" she hissed and presented him an even nastier glower.

Blaise was a bit startled by her defensive and icy tone but brushed it off. Weasleys hating Slytherins was a well-known fact, but that was the least of his worries. He'd break through that. Give him a couple months, and Ginny will simply love Potter but like him.

No, he was more concerned with other things…like Theo and Draco. When Blaise had innocently walked into the Slytherin boys' seventh year dormitories the day before, he had been bombarded by his best mates with a request.

"_We need you to seduce Ginny Weasley…but not really." _Draco had said.

"_Get friendly with her. We need you to make Potter jealous. It's essential."_ Theodore had added with an eager nod.

"_If you know what's good for you, Zabini, you'd turn around and run back to Italy to your mum." _Pansy had warned, and Blaise brushed the admonishment off, thinking that the witch's menses were making her overreact.

"_So I don't really get to sleep with the Weaselette?"_ Blaise had asked.

"_Well, we can't stop you, mate. We'll be rather busy ourselves, Draco and I. Do whatever you can to make Potter think you're circling his girl. If you actually want to snatch her, I suggest you take care. Not only will you upset The Boy Who Officially Killed Voldemort When He Was Fourteen, you will be riling up her six older brothers. I heard one of them works with dragons." _Theo had nervously cringed.

So Blaise made the decision to not actually seduce the youngest Weasley. When you're a Slytherin, one must pick and choose battles accordingly. One cannot act like Gryffindors and throw his or herself into a fight and brave the ferocious combat and hope for the best.

The wizard knew that he would be able to _eventually_ seduce Ginny Weasley right out of the arms of Harry Bloody Potter. If he had chosen that route, rest assured that fiery witch would have fancied Blaise by the end of the school year in June because it would take that long. Of course, the Italian would be unable to bask in her affection because he would be dead. He wasn't daft. Mrs. Weasley had to have six boys before she was gifted with a daughter. She was The Burrow Princess, and the shining apple of all eyes in that family.

So it was best that Blaise's worries were not centrally focused on bedding the Weaselette. His reservations lied with his mates. Draco and Theo were going to destroy each other. It could not be put in plainer words, and the Italian wizard admittedly was a bit morose about his mates' infatuation with Granger. Certainly she grew up into a pretty thing, and if one stared at her long enough, perverse thoughts of ownership or worse, sickening love ideals popped into the brain. Blaise half-wondered if the witch had a bit of Siren in that dirty blood of hers.

He made a note to stay clear from her as to not be infected. The House of Slytherin would probably implode if Blaise conjured fuzzily warm feelings for the Gryffindor Queen.

Cringe!

Grimace!

Avert thoughts!

Think about brilliant Quidditch strategies to catch the Weaselette in her words, Blaise mused as he fished out a piece of parchment and a quill. He actually had one. While scribbling down tactics, he ignored the Weaselette's scoff from beside him.

If he needed to force his way to the Weasley witch's life, Slytherin had a game to win on Saturday.

All through class, Blaise strategized Quidditch tactics carefully and thoroughly, often scratching out and rewriting new ones. Draco was the captain, but the co-captain could certainly help and if winning the Slytherin versus Gryffindor game on Saturday helped his mates out in anyway shape or form, then so be it.

Class ended and Blaise had a free hour of study as did the Weaselette. He watched as she hugged tear-streaked Granger and marched towards the library where she met up with Lavender Brown where they quizzed each other on History of Magic anecdotes. Sitting two study tables over, he watched them while making notes on his Quidditch plan.

* * *

A/N: I put Ginny in a lot of the same classes as the Seventh Years because I needed her to be there. Let's assume she's really smart and can hold her own acadamically, which I'm sure she can.

Thank you to all who have read and review. Thank you: **writingismagic, Alexia, amama123, cherrifly, and brenluvshp** for your reviews.

To writingismagic: I really enjoyed your review. It made me happy, and I'm glad you thought it was hilarious. :)

Some of my reviewers commented on Hermione's reaction to Draco's admission on how they like the change. Instead of falling all over him and herself by blushing and blubbering like a silly little school girl with wet, sopping heart, she put him in his place. As much as I love Draco, he is a naughty little boy and needs to know that Hermione is not just going to fall into his arms because he thinks she's pretty. (Hate stories like that! C'mon, give the girl a little backbone, will ya?)

So far, Draco is in the lead for winning Hermione's heart, but Theo is not far behind. His intentions have been found more pure than Draco's. And we will just see about that, won't we? (Cackles like a maniac) He is a Slytherin after all, so we will just see who is the most looney out of all the Slytherins. Place your vote on that, and I'm still accepting votes for who will win Granger's heart.


	6. Chapter 6

"Your head is full of wrackpsurts, Mr. Zabini."

Blaise halted his quill and turned towards the dreamy,melodic voice which could only belong to Luna Lovegood. Without commenting, he watched as she cocked her head to the side and stripped herself the most peculiar glasses he had ever seen, leaving behind vacant but pretty blue eyes.

"Are you troubled? I've never seen that many around you before. Would you care for a book on how to keep them away? My father helped the author publish it."

Blaise did not answer, a little put off by her sudden appearance and addressing towards his person.

Luna didn't wait for an answer. She sat down beside him and fished her hand into her satchel and pulled out book about 300 pages thick and gently placed it upon his Quidditch parchment. He flashed an annoyed glare, but she merely smiled, showing all of her white teeth.

"Listen, Lovegood-" Blaise started.

"Yes?" she inquired as her lips drew into an expectant smile.

"I'm a –"

"Are you busy?" Lovegood asked, and he was about to say yes, but she fished into her satchel again and pulled out some notes. "I apologize and hope you do think me rude, but I need someone to assess me on my Arithmancy notes. I have a test following lunch. Do you mind? I would be most grateful, and I hear you're quite good at the subject."

Blaise Zabini was a Slytherin. Cunning, deceitful, and sometimes ruthless were characteristics that could describe him. Unfortunately, he was also a gentleman and when a not half-bad looking bird asked for assistance with her education, oblige he must. It was in Lucius Malfoy's Handbook, Chapter Eleven: A Gentleman is what a Gentleman does.

He felt rather silly sitting next to the Ravenclaw loony. He would ask her a question, and Lovegood would answer perfectly in that dulcet, childlike tone. Throughout the whole time that he tested her, her eyes would often wander everywhere and light up like she was seeing a part of the library she had not seen before. Honestly, he felt like he was in the company of an inquisitively, intelligent child. She wasn't a particularly bubbly girl, but she was a bubble, a single bubble that drifted and shined, and no could be sure whether it was safe to pop her or not.

But she was so…what's the word?

Innocent.

Not naïve. Blaise knew an intellectual bint when he saw one. She knew what was going on around her, what people said about her. Lovegood, it appeared, that she chose to separate herself from all the negativity around her and see only the positive. Even if the amount was seldom.

Lovegood had chosen to sit by him. A Slytherin. Someone who had guffawed and mocked her openly.

Yet, she still chose to sit by him and politely ask for assistance.

Blaise spared a glance at Weaselette and Brown.

She could have sat over there. Lovegood and the Weaselette were friends.

"Thank you for helping me, Mr. Zabini." She said before reaching back into her bag and taking out something wrapped in cellophane. She tore it open and slid out a sugar quill and stretched her arm towards him so that the sweet feathers of the quill brushed teasingly on his lips. "Sugar quill? It's French vanilla and cinnamon, your favorite."

Much like he was in a stupor, he wrapped his fingers around the quill, kind of making sure that they brushed against hers. He inwardly frowned when she appeared thoroughly unaffected by his touch. Girls usually melted and fawned all over him when he simply gifted them with a smirk. Here he had actually touched Lovegood, and she was perfectly intact.

She left him just like that, sitting on his chair with a book about wrackspurts over his Quidditch strategies and in his hand and nearly on his lips, a sugar quill.

Blaise was able to somewhat pull himself together and shakily stuff the book and parchment into his bag and tread off to the Great Hall for lunch, the sugar quill still in his hand. He sat in between Draco and Theo who were arguing about something or another. Blaise was unsure. He scanned the Ravenclaw table in search for Lovegood. He found her seated next to Coroner and across from Patil.

She was not looking at him but was quite occupied licking the chocolate pudding off her spoon.

His own treat found its way to his mouth, and he began sucking while perching his elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand.

Lovegood was rather fit in that waifish, village girl kind of way, yeah?

Draco and Theo leaned away from their House table a few moments after Blaise had sat between them. They faced each other and resumed their argument, their backs almost parallel with the floor.

"You must be bloody mad if you think she's going to choose you, Draco. You tortured her." Theo hissed from his sideways angle.

"And you watched," Draco snidely retorted. "Which do you think is worse? Someone who does evil things or someone who watches evil things and does nothing about them?"

"She'll be more prone to forgive me." Theo said. "I'm nicer and more charming."

Draco snorted. "If you were trying to court Abbott that might work. Granger is an exuberant flame of Fiendfyre. She needs someone that will keep her on her toes and keep her wit intact. I heard that you gifted her with ice cream. Smooth and sweet, a sure way towards best friend status. You'll be as useful to her as Longbottom."

"And what would you gift her with, hmm?" Theo snarled.

"Jewels, galleons, dresses fit for a queen. I bet she'd like the chateau in Brittany. I'll give her that."

A sharp chortle escaped Theo. "You've got be joking! You think trying to _buy_ Granger is going to work. She doesn't care about those things, you imbecile! You try to give her those things, and she'll run in the opposite direction. I wouldn't be surprised if she toddled back to Muggle World to ensure that you two never cross paths again. To spite you, she'd marry a Muggle, most likely a Yank named Drake with black hair, black eyes, and tan skin."

"And I'm the one who's mad?" Draco shrilled. "Listen to yourself, mate."

"I'm the better choice! Granger needs someone to worship and adore her with all the things that she deserves. I can give her that. I can give her the world. Whatever she wants. I will let her decide. The old man is dead, and anything she wants is hers."

"I can give her whatever she wants, too," argued Draco with a scowl.

"As long as your father is alive and monitoring your purchases, there is little you can offer her. You start buying jewels, candy, flowers, lingerie, and fertility potions; Lucius and Narcissa are going to be all over your arse with questions. Face it; as long as your daddy is amongst the living, Granger is off limits. Besides, she won't have you anyway. You have no charm when it comes to her. You may think calling her Mudblood is a cute, pet name, but she does not appreciate it."

"You call her Mudblood." Draco pointed out.

"Not to her face."

"Doesn't matter."

"At least I have charm. She paid more attention to me in class than she did you." Theo smiled triumphantly, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"No she didn't. She was talking to me the whole time just about."

"Let me rephrase. She was talking with me and yelling at you in class, and what do you expect? You sauntered up to her told her she was prettiest Mudblood in all the school."

"She is!"

"I know, but you don't say that M-word. Seriously, you have no charm."

"Seriously, I'm going to capture Granger's heart and shag her on top the dining table during Christmas dinner. I'll shove that turkey off the table and replace it with her. She'll be completely naked with the exception of darling little holly berries and leaves strung up in her hair and then…" Draco leered lustily over at the Gryffindor table. "I'm going to stuff her. Father be damned and Mother…well…she always told me she'd love me know matter what." Draco chuckled darkly.

Theodore's eyes glazed over, and his jaw loosened. He unconsciously licked his lips and stared wistfully at the Gryffindor table where the sweet, little, uncut, cherry pie that was Hermione Granger dwelt. Her brown eyes were bright and captivating, still pinkish from mourning over Weasley.

Draco's holiday description was perverse but so…tempting. Theo would love nothing more than to storm over there and grab the filthy blooded bird and clear the table with one swipe and lay her upon it, right in front of Potter and Weasley. He'd then pounce on her like a hungered animal. Everyone would know that Granger was his, and no one would touch her when he decided to finish his meal.

_If_ he decided to finish his meal.

Theo swallowed and pulled at the material of his robe that was strangling him around his neck and shifted in his seat with a growl.

"Y-you work on your charm skills, and w-we will just see." Theo stumbled out and hopped away from the table and bolted out of the Great Hall and towards the loo.

Draco sneered after Theo but understood why the bloke scampered. He, too, was having the same problem. Nonchalantly, he guzzled his ice cold goblet of water and prayed for the liquid to calm him down.

Sigh!

Maybe Theo was right. Draco did seem to be going nowhere and fast with Granger. His charm was not working on her. He knew he had some, and they always worked on lasses. Those bints were Pureblooded and Slytherins, though and loved his money and his name. None of those things would impress the Gryffindor Queen.

So what could?

How did a prestigious Pureblood like himself go about the way of courting a Mudblood, especially one so akin to a firecracker?

Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table, again. Granger was giggling at something Potter had said. He glared at the Boy Who Lived to Effing Torment Draco Malfoy, himself. That sodding Half-Blood thought he ruled the Wizarding World. Such a ponce! Severus despised him, too. The man was always mumbling about how much the boy was just like his father, carousing about the castle with the redheaded girl, he and his friends always causing trouble.

Draco knew that Severus hated the late James Potter and took beef out with his son. The young wizard was unsure as to why and was damned scared to ask, knowing he'd get a hex in the arse if he did. Mother really had nothing kind to say about the dead man either. He remembered her saying once that for a Gryffindor, he was rather cruel. Both Sirius and James were quite aberrant and savagely toward any Slytherin that crossed their paths. With a disappointed and forlorn expression on his mum's exquisite features, she had said that Sirius was the worst out of all James Potter's friends. Mother summed it up to being that Sirius had been meant for Slytherin but had chosen Gryffindor instead, making his behavior incredibly distasteful and lacking in anything cunning. Father hated him and promised if ever crossed Sirius, he would kill him.

"He had been quite handsome and had a way with the ladies. He salivated over Mudbloods. Like a dog, he would follow them and practically dry hump on their leg. He charmed one, courted her, and flung her to the side in pursuit of a new one. I daresay he found them exciting. He was besotted with their world and their manners and their style of dress. During my schooling years, I remember how they dressed on trips to Hogsmeade during the spring. Naked, they practically were, legs and arms on display for the whole bloody world to see. Had they no modesty? And it's just worse now! I saw that filth called…what's her name?…Granger at Hogsmeade. She was wearing this lascivious attire. Disgusting. Is she trying to tempt exceptional, Pureblood lads like yourself? Stay clear from her wanton ways, Draco. Do not be like your mother's cousin."

Draco had stopped listening at 'she was wearing lascivious attire' because he remembered the dress his father was talking about. It was a soft hue of purple, and the flouncy hem touched a few inches above her knee. Draco had gone to Hogsmeade to meet his parents for a weekend lunch at the Three Broomsticks, and his mother looked positively scandalized by Granger's choice of cloth. Father had choked on his tea and blinked a whole bunch of times like he wasn't sure if what he was seeing had been real.

Granger had that effect on people.

And Draco had loved that dress. However, he would have loved it off of her more. He had hoped an innocent breeze would come by and flutter around and swish up her skirt.

There hadn't been, so Draco had to make one.

Subtlety of course.

Matching purple knickers.

Smirk!

With frozen lolly prints.

Yum.

Draco shook his head to snap himself out of his lusty thoughts. The point was…Sirius Black.

And Draco needed to contact him, so he checked his watch. He had time. Grabbing a green apple from the fruit bowl, he made a mad dash to Owlery. Once there, he placed his bottom at the top of the steps and fished out a piece of parchment, a book, and a quill. He laid the parchment on the book, took a bite of his apple, and then begun writing:

Dear Sirius Black,

We've never met, but we are cousins. I am Narcissa Malfoy nee Black's son Draco, and I need some advice. (You know, from one Sex God to another). You see, Cousin, I don't usually have problems in the women department. I keep them rather satisfied in all honesty. However, those women were of pureblood, and lately, I have found difference between courting Purebloods and trying to court Mudbloods. The difference is, my dear man, that Mudbloods are vicious as they are delectable. Animals, they are, perched by shrubbery of which they call home, giving off their fertile scent to the surrounding, Pureblooded male population. We inhale deeply and then we charge. We approach with sheer masculinity, complimenting nicely with astute lineage, only to have them debilitate us into a bloody pulp, grind us into the ground, and then scour the Earth in search for despicable Half-Bloods and poor, ginger haired, Blood Traitors with intention to mate.

Cousin, we are elite. Me, especially so. I am of Malfoy and Black descent. Knickers are thrown at me at all times with Floo information and names listed on the material, but the one girl's unmentionables that I desire above all, I have found difficult to achieve. She is a Mudblood and thoroughly unimpressed with me and finds me to be positively vexatious. What should I do, Blood-Traitorous Cousin Black? I'm in love with her, and I need her to love me back in return. My best mate fancies her, too. Adjure me, I beg, so I can be the one to win her heart, put my repugnant grandmother's ring on her beautiful finger, and get busy making the first ever Half-Blood, Malfoy moppets. Your Mudblood-courting escapades are legendary, so I know you can help me. If you do, once my father has finally departed from this dimension, no longer plaguing and dictating my life, as the only male heir remnant of Black, (that has not been disowned or has a vile consistency of blood descended from a Potter and an Evens) I shall reinstate your name in the family tree, and you will have access to the Black Family Vault once again. Of course, I must win my sweetheart's heart first, so the advice you give better damn well work. If you fail, I fail. I know that you are residing in the Unplottable Grimmauld Place 12, a Black ancestral home. I am also aware that legally and inheritance wise, the house belongs to me, not even my father can touch it. Having Harry Potter's name on your will is nothing. Once I present my case to the Wizengamot, the obvious ownership will be brought forth.

Now, I ask again. Will you help me?

With much admiration,

D.M.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much to all that have read and reviewed. Thank you **AmandaMau, DrAmIoNeLoVeR1154, writingismagic, and cherrifly** for the reviews.

I will be taking votes concerning Draco and Theo up until Chapter 10 so get them in. Although, I do say that increase in Theo prefrence has surprised me. He's not as popular as Draco, but I admit that I did write him more tolerable than the precious, little Ferret.

My next poll: I want to know who you think is the craziest Slytherin. Is it Draco, Theo, Pansy, Blaise, or another. Let me know! :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you to all that have read and reviewed! I hope everyone liked the previous chapter because I had a lot of fun writing this one, too.

In this chapter, it briefly talks of a wedding. I have no idea how Magical people celebrate weddings or receptions, so I just did the Muggle way. It also says how Ole' Voldie met his doom, and it probably would have not worked in the books, but in my story...*grins evily*...it does.

Thank you to: **amama123, mooray, the-clumsy-one, and Vaneesa85 for the reviews.**

To **amama123**: Thank you so much for your reviews, but I put in one of my previous author's notes as to why Ginny was in some of the classes with the Seventh Year students.

As said previously, I will be taking votes for Draco vs. Theo up until Chapter 10. I have to say, though, Theo is looking promising. I even got a couple that said neither. People aren't going for my Draco anymore. Poor Wittle Baby! Don't give up on him yet. He may surprise you. *wink, wink* However, I may make several different endings to this fic, or I may not. Wierdly enough, the Holidays are approaching and fast, and this fic, I have a feeling, is going to be a lot longer than my others. It may not be done until December, but I will keep the updates going weekly or bi-weekly.

The new vote, as I said in the previous chapter: Who is the Craziest Slytherin? So far I only one vote for Pansy and one for Draco. I'm going to need more votes than that to work with, so be sweethearts and put them in.

Enjoy Chapter 7!

* * *

Sirius sat in his dead father's study in Grimmauld Place Number Twelve and blinked.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

And one more time.

Blink!

He skimmed the girly handwriting once more and let out a stifled chortle. He wondered if Lucius was proud of his son's feminine power of the quill. A mirthful smile split his face, and he wondered if he should actually _read_ the letter. He only reached_ Dear Sirius Black, We've never met, but we are cousins. I am Narcissa Malfoy nee Black's son Draco, and I— _before becoming distracted by the revelation that who had written was a boy. Then he was hit with the revelation that the boy was Draco Malfoy, his cousin's son.

Then the blinking began.

Stilling his eyelids, he narrowed his eyes on the folded parchment and wondered what trickery lay ahead. Was Narcissa up to something? Perhaps. She did say she would get him back for showing up uninvited and drunk to her wedding reception with that Muggle model from the States, interrupting Snivellus' Best Man speech with a stentorian fart, and throwing his date in the agglomeration of witches in order to catch the bouquet.

And blimey the girl did!

She was so excited and a bit tipsy, waving the flowers high up in the air like a lasso and stumbled towards him to show him her prize at the same time asking why everyone was carrying fancy sticks. Sirius kindly informed her that those particular fancy sticks are what his family withdrew from their arses whenever a celebration occurred.

Abraxas Malfoy tried to kill him with a cliché _Avada Kedavera_. He was sloshed, too, so the old bugger missed and hit Bellatrix's cat.

And that was when it really became a powwow.

In amidst of all the catastrophic fun, and when he discovered his date to be _Stupefied_, he felt a hand claw into his shoulder and whip him around. There was his dear, sweet cousin Narcissa looking as murderous and red as the day she was born. With shakiness, she vowed that she would get her vengeance. It was damned frightening. She lifted up her wand straightly and everything. Sirius had gulped, nervously chuckled, and grabbed his date, Apparating the hell out of there.

No. Sirius shook his head. Narcissa was a Black, and a Black wouldn't get back at someone through their children. That would be something Lucius would do, and that ponce was all too relieved when someone, anyone, had taken the attention away from his bride who looked stunning but scandalously round if you looked hard enough. Naughty Narcissa had to have been over four months along.

Sirius scratched behind his ear.

No, he was jumping to conclusions.

He had not even read the letter all the way through. His fingers brought the parchment up to his eyes and started over, refusing to become distracted by the womanish, inky loops or anything else. When finished, he didn't really believe he actually was, so he reread the letter again. This time slower.

Once he finished reading the letter for the third time, he understood the reason fully as to why Narcissa and her husband only had one child. Clearly, it would have been best if that they had not attempted to reproduce another progeny because their first and only born was inadequate in the mentality department. Sirius had warned Narcissa of the risks of inbreeding, though, Lucius Malfoy was her eighth cousin once removed or some rot like that; it was still hazardous.

Sirius quirked his brows and tsked at the letter. He was passed thinking that Draco Malfoy was sending him a letter as a joke. There wasn't a reason in the world why the lad would do that. So it was worse.

He was serious.

And that was the most troubling thought that could have ever crossed Sirius Black's mind.

The man brought his thumb and forefinger to his eyes and rubbed and contemplated writing a hasty note to Harry, instructing the boy to keep a close eye on the young Malfoy boy.

But not get too close.

Sirius did not want any Malfoy mishugah rubbing off on his Godson. The boy was already on the brink as it is.

Ever since what happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament of Harry's Fourth year. Harry had been freshly Portkeyed with his Hufflepuff ally at the graveyard. Along came Wormtail with some swaddled cloth in his arm and wand at the ready. The boy had gripped his own wand and let hate and vengeance overcome his body, his blood demanding retribution for the loss of his parents.

He had submitted to rage and performed the _Cruciatus Curse_ on the traitorous rat. The Hufflepuff ally, Diggory, unaware of anything but what he was seeing, persuaded Harry to calm down.

Months following, Harry had opened up to him on what occurred that night. He had_ Stunned_ Pettigrew who had left behind some hissing, hideous looking toddler only to discover that it was Voldemort. With adrenaline still pumping inside him, he had pointed his wand and set the abomination on fire. He was probably a bit overeager, for his 'meant to be simple' fire was more Fiendfyre quality. Not long after shouting the spell, he told Sirius that he passed out from excruciating pain erupting inside his brain and would have burned to death if Diggory had not saved him and Portkeyed all three of them back to Hogwarts. Two days later, Harry woke up at St. Mungo's and refused to speak for weeks. During the boy's time unconscious, Pettigrew had been arrested and Barty Crouch Jr. had been caught Polyjuicing himself into Mad-Eye Moody.

With much investigation, panic, and relief on the Wizarding society of Britain, Lord Voldemort had not returned and was never going to with the Veritaserum confessions from Pettigrew and Crouch Jr. This eventually led to the clearing of Sirius' name. Unfortunately, risking Harry's sanity in the process of eliminating the threat of Tom Riddle was nearly too high.

Yes, the lad was doing better (debatably), and he did not need Draco Malfoy messing that up. So Sirius made the decision to not contact Harry about the letter, but he did contemplate communicating with Narcissa for the first time in seventeen years. The woman would mostly likely set fire to his letters, though.

He supposed he could respond to Draco. After all, the kid was threatening to take away his home.

Sirius snarled. Legally, little Malfoy could do just that. And it would be sort of pleasant to have full access to his inheritance if he was reinstated in the family tree.

He smiled wickedly. Someone needed to claim Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts if Narcissa had yet to. Little Lupin, who was baking in the oven, needed some sort of funding. Sirius' lot got taken away when he was disowned as did Andromeda's. Nymphadora didn't even get a sickle, and her child did have Black in his blood. With Mooney unable to find work and Nymphadora receiving a pitiful Auror's wage, the little tyke needed some funding here and there.

Sirius pursed his lips and debated Draco's offer. What if he really did help the tiny wanker out? What harm could it do? If anything, it might enlighten the his mind. The letter was sincere, though, rather insulting and abrupt. The boy definitely needed some assistance with his vocabulary if he wanted a Muggle-Born witch to fall in love with a Pureblooded prat like him.

Sirius smiled wistfully which diminished almost immediately. James Potter and Lily Evens danced across his memories. If it hadn't been for Sirius, James would have never in a million years captured Lily's heart. Bloody hell, she was already in love with someone else when James realized he fancied her.

He swallowed the sorrowful gall inside his throat and conjured a quill and some parchment. That rat-faced, little monkey better love that girl because he was going to have to change a lot.

Sirius pricked the parchment with the inked quill and was about to write when an owl flew close to the ceiling and dropped another letter at his desk.

It was folded into thirds like the one he just read. He broke the Slytherin green sealant apprehensively, unfolded the letter, and read the first line.

_Dear Mr. Sirius Black,_

_ My name is Theodore Nott of the Slytherin House at Hogwarts, class of 1998, and I am inquiring some information from you._

* * *

Meanwhile back at school and a few hours before...

Once Theodore had exited the lavatory stall, he made his way over to a sink and washed his hands. While keeping his hands under the warm water, he studied his reflection.

My Gods, he was sexy. Why wasn't Granger falling all over herself whilst in his presence? He was just as handsome as Draco, and both he and his friend were exceedingly more fit than Weasley. What did she see in the oaf? The git wasn't ugly, but there were far nicer looking blokes. Was Weasley funny? Charming?

A mocking sneer stared back at Theodore from the mirror, and his reflection told him that he was those two things.

"You are those two things, Theo," his reflection piped. "Granger's just crazy."

"Yeah," Theodore mumbled vaguely. "But it's not good enough. I want her to love me, and I thought I was doing all the right things. I gave her ice cream, talked ooey-gooey to her, and was flirtatious and nice to her. Where am I going wrong?"

"You're pathetic!" hissed his mirror image. "Get out of my sight!"

And so he did. He had a free hour, so he went to the library. It would have been best if he took advantage of his time by studying, but he had no urge. Instead, he wandered mindlessly through the stacks, trying to keep the wheels and cogs spinning in his brain.

He drifted upon the Year Book Section and pulled a random one off the shelf. It was from 1984. He scoffed and placed it back where it came from. What an incredibly boring year.

He then pulled out a yearbook from the year 1976 which was the year his father graduated from Hogwarts. He skittered through the pages in pursuit of his dead father and found him scowling up at him in the Seventh Year Slytherins' section. Theodore was rather pleased to inform himself that he was much more pleasing to look at than his father and briefly wondered what his deceased, but beautiful when living, mother ever saw in the hideous brute.

Quickly growing tired of staring upon his father's intrusive mug, he flipped the pages and found a picture sporting the Black Brothers. It wasn't a particularly great picture, for the photographer must have been in the perfect spot at the perfect time, but the moment was rather cold if not distant. Sirius Black and Regulus were not smiling, and honestly, looked quite peeved with their shifting eyes and snarling lips. They were half-turned towards each other and the photographer with startled and irked expressions upon their faces. Obviously, the photo was neither planned nor welcome to either of them.

Below that photograph were two smaller pictures: each boy in a setting of their own and much more appeased by their surroundings.

There was the Sixth Year Sirius, and Theo smirked his approval. The Blood Traitor had each arm wrapped around a lovely lady. There had been talk how Sirius had been a Sex God among men and had a weakness for Mudbloods.

Theo's smirk turned into a smile.

Perfect.

He dug into his satchel and pulled out his quill and some parchment and set to work. When finished, he folded up the letter, sealed it, and dashed to the Owlery.

* * *

Draco had stolen the seat next to Granger in Potions, and Theodore glared at his friend's stupid, blonde head and sat behind them next to a swollen-lipped Pansy.

"Hey, Granger," Theo called out to her. When she turned around, he handed her a tulip that he picked on his way back to the main part of the castle.

Her brown eyes blinked in surprise and then melted into warm gratitude. She smiled shyly and hesitantly touched the stem of the flower.

"Go on," Theo said. "Take it. It's for you."

"Thank you," she said and took the flower. "I love bluebells."

Draco sneered at Theo and bit his tongue to keep from saying anything that might upset the lovely girl next to him. And she did look very lovely. As she studied the flower in her hand, he leaned over and whispered in her ear in a soft but loving tone, "You are lovely, Granger. More divine than any blossom is what you are."

When he retreated away from her, he breathed in deeply, capturing her citrusy scent, and brushed his lips against her jaw bone. She stiffened but didn't say anything.

Draco shot a pretentious smirk at his mate who bared his teeth and gripped his quill so tightly it snapped in half and then put his focus back on the object of his desire. She was frowning at him.

"Malfoy," she clipped then turned around to face Theodore, but before she did, her eyes fell on Pansy. Her lips thinned and her nostrils flared, then she put her gaze on the boy beside her. "Mr. Nott."

"Granger," the boys said unison.

"Stop. I don't know what you boys are playing, but I will not be a part of it. I refuse to be a ploy in your scheme of humiliation."

"Granger-" the boys tried, but she huffed and started scribbling on her parchment before gathering up her belongings, with the exception of the bluebell, and sprinted to the door where Professor Snape was entering. She handed him the parchment and maneuvered passed him.

"You boys are utterly pathetic," Pansy cackled and shook her head from side to side. "Neither of you are going to win. I hope you know that.

"Draco, she's never going let you court her. Eventually, you may get her forgiveness for being a bully, but that'll be it. Theo, if your dad hadn't tried to kill her, you may have had a shot. So let's face the facts; Granger will never trust either of you. She'll never love you. Stop this madness before she claws out your hearts and sets fire to them."

"I can't." Draco said.

"Me neither." Theo sighed.

"She's just a girl," Pansy aggravated out and ran a hand through her already mussed hair. When her fingers felt the untamed tresses, she blushed and quickly tamed them, not wanting to give anyone the indication that Ron Weasley gave it to her good just fifteen minutes before in the old Charms classroom. "Either of you could have any girl in the school. Why her?"

Pansy never got her answer, for Professor dryly informed the class to open their books to page 56 in their textbooks and begin brewing their assignment.

For the rest of the day Draco and Theodore avoided each other, not trusting themselves to not physically harm one another. They also avoided Granger, both were smart enough to know they had to let the bint cool off before she was considered approachable again.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco arched his brow. Pansy was not at breakfast. Weasley was not at breakfast.

Abomination is what it was. Draco feared that his ex might fancy the orange-haired Blood Traitor. She was really taking the whole 'distract Weasley' bit far too seriously.

He stifled a snort and turned to face Theo, so he could let him in on the laugh.

Who was not there.

Draco scowled at the empty space where his mate was supposed to dwell. He searched the table and found him sitting on the opposite corner, close to the staff table. His mate appeared downtrodden and was moving the food around on his plate.

This was it, Draco frowned. Theo and he were on the outs officially.

A forlorn, acidy feeling of friendlessness nagged at Draco. Sighing, his eyes searched for Blaise. His other mate should be sitting by him, too, but wasn't. He was found standing behind the She-Weasel, bending over and whispering in her ear. When he finished his murmurings, the girl whipped around and slapped him.

"We'll just see, won't we, Zabini?!" she haughtily screeched and dashed out of the Great Hall with Harry nipping at her heels, but not before he glared murderously at Blaise.

His mate watched the two lovebirds depart from the student body's presence with a pleased look upon his face. With arrogance, he lifted his chin and nose and made his way towards the Slytherin table. On the way, he was stopped by that Lovegood girl. From Draco's view, it didn't look like she said anything, but neither did Blaise. She merely smiled at him and handed him a package of sugar quills and skipped away.

Then it got really weird. Draco swallowed nervously; his fork full of eggs had hesitated before entering his mouth.

Blaise stared after Lovegood with a fatuous, engrossed expression for a whole thirty seconds before sighing with a ghost of smile on his face before strolling in the direction from whence she departed.

Draco shook his head, for he was positive that Blaise was farting little pink hearts in his wake.

Effing Hell, if those two got together and decided to marry…Draco shuddered at the imagery. Their children would be certifiably insane.

Placing his fork down, Draco decided that breakfast was not going to be on the agenda for that day. He needed to put all his focus on Granger and how to make her love him. The night before, while lying away in his bed, he fancied the idea of slipping her a love potion. But he couldn't keep that up forever. Eventually, he would have to stop, and she would sober. And then she would for sure hate him for the rest of their lives and would indeed leave Hogwarts, vacate the country, and marry a dark skinned bloke named Drake.

Or worse.

Theo.

A frustrated groan shot out from his lips while he scratched harshly at his scalp in deep thought.

What was he going to do?

Just then squeals and squawks could be heard from up high, signaling that the mail had arrived. An envelope fell in front of Draco, landing in the raspberry marmalade. He decrypted the messy handwriting on the cover of it as his name and gingerly lifted the tiny parcel out of the dish. He sneered in disgust at the dripping, fruity mush attached to the letter and shook it off, dislodging a chunk and flinging it across the table to land on Crabbe's forehead. The robust lad was feverously eating at his porridge; he momentarily paused his spoon-dunking to swipe at the marmalade with his finger and plunge the meaty digit into his mouth.

Draco poked at the remnants of juicy, gooey stuff to make the rest fall of the letter. When he succeeded in getting most of it off, he opened up the letter and began to read.

_Dear Insolent Brat of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black,_ the letter began.

Hark! Sirius Black had responded to the letter Draco sent.

Appearing calm and rightfully pleased on the outside, the young Malfoy jumped up and down like a hyped up toddler on Christmas morning on the inside.

With his head held high, he strolled out of the Great Hall, making sure to catch Granger's eye before exiting. He found an abandoned table in the library and continued to read the letter.

_Dear Insolent Brat of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black,_

_ As a realist, I must inform you that to which you most desire may take years to achieve. Women, the right kind of women, are that way. Since you are not merely trying to get into a girly's knickers, you need to prepare yourself for what is to come…if anything is to come. You must accept, Narcissa's Spawn, that you may fail. Before you are able to read the rest of this letter, you will need to accept that. If you don't, I have charmed the parchment to transfigure into a pile a salt. Say _**ego accipere**, _and you must within the first ten minutes of touching the parchment or, like I stated, it will become salt. Do you accept, you Near Bastard Child?_

Failure?! Draco shouted within in his mind. He gripped the letter and tempted the thought of shredding it into pieces but withheld. Flaring his nostrils and disparaged his cousin's antics, he wanted so badly to give into his anger. The thing that stopped him tearing apart Sirius' response was Granger.

Merlin, he really wanted her.

And he really needed help to get her. Could he risk not getting her in the end?

"_Ego accipere,_" Draco eventually breathed out and watched the messy scrawl continue down the page.

_Impressive. I wondered if you would give in. She must be special, this Muggle-Born to whom you fancy. Not many Slytherins would take that risk but would simply take what they want regardless of how it's done. It's noble and very Gryffindor of you._

_I do realize that I probably insulted you._

_I cackle with glee_

_I hate Slytherins._

_Furthermore, in order to capture the heart of a Muggle-Born, you must study their ways. Like you already know, they are not like Pureblood girls, but they are certainly not like animals either as to which you have described them. At least not outside of the bedroom. If you are lucky enough to bed this Muggle-Born witch, you will become acquainted with her animalistic side. Muggles have advanced knowledge of sex, and the lovely witches that are fortunate enough to be raised by them do like share their secrets. *Wink, wink*_

Draco folded up the letter and placed in his bag and dashed madly but carefully to the boy's loo, the heavy school robes hiding his embarrassing situation. Once ridding himself of it, he stepped out of the stall and washed his hands all the while checking out his reflection.

"You look good for an utter ponce that's tit over flobberworms for a filthy Mudblood," said his reflection sneered.

"Thanks," Draco smirked genuinely and dried his hands before racing off to his first class which was a bore, so he fished out his letter and began reading again.

_Dear Godric, I hope you washed your hands, but I will not cause you further discomfort for my knowledge of what you've just done. I will say that I often make a quick exit to the loo whenever I wander down the pathway of idle thinking pertaining to vivacious, Muggle-Born lasses. _

_To court Muggle-Born girls when one is an outstandingly, bigoted Pureblood, the first thing one must do is say _**Muggle-Born**_._

_Go on, Young Malfoy Git. Say it._

Draco stopped his reading when realizing that there was nothing left to read. He grumbled and smacked his lips in preparation for what he was about to say.

"Muggle-Born," he whispered quietly, due to being in class. More of Sirius' abominable scrawl appeared. But not much. Draco sneered at the lack of writing.

_Good job. Now say, _**Mudblood**_._

Draco blinked in shock, taken back that Sirius Black, The Blood-Traitor, wanted him to say that word.

"Mudblood," he said lowly and sure enough more writing appeared.

_That may be the last time you ever say that word. Your love interest will not appreciate such a foul name coming from your lips. If you want her to kiss them, you have to keep them clean._

_Now that will be all for today. I will post you an Owl tomorrow morning with your second lesson. Today was your first, and you passed. Congratulations. Now run along and every time you see the girl you most desire, call her Muggle-Born in your mind. In fact, do not actually speak to her until I Owl you the go ahead, yeah?_

_I dare say this would be much simpler if we could meet in person, but I don't want to. Hearing your petulant, insulting rant in literary form is enough. I'd probably go back to Azkaban if we were to risk each other's presence._

_Oh well, at least I'd be for sure guilty this time._

_Adieu, Carnivorous Sapling of Cousin Narcissa._

_Sirius_

Draco folded up the parchment and stuffed it into his bag, more than a little put off by Sirius Black's tone. The man was kind of a mad wanker, yeah?

* * *

_Dear Mr. Theodore Nott, Son of a Dead, Perverse Wanker: _

Theo read inconspicuously in class. He had his response letter from Sirius Black, and he was practically foaming at the mouth with anticipation. With a giddy smirk, he continued reading the rather horrid quill strokes on the parchment.

_Yesterday you Owled me a letter pertaining your interest in, and I quote 'a rather darling Mudblood by the name of Hermione Jean Granger.'_

_You should know, Young Slytherin Prick, that Miss Granger is a dear friend to my Godson and, therefore, is dear to me. Are you catching my drift?_

_Say yes if you are._

Theo groaned and refrained from banging his head on the desk. This was just. Too. Bloody. Perfect. How stupid was he for forgetting Granger's connection to Black?

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

He should crumple the letter up and burn it in the Slytherin Common Room at first chance. Shape it into a crane and charm it too land on Potter's head and ignite up in flames. Or, hell, use it to wipe his own arse. He didn't know. What he did know was that he should not say yes.

"Yes," Theo whispered to Black's response.

_Bloody Hell, Slimy Git in the Making! I thought for sure you wouldn't respond. I reckoned that my lovely reply would end up stained and misused, morosely flushed down the loo. You must be unbelievably courageous for a Slytherin or completely daft._

_I'm going with the latter._

_Do you actually think that you have a chance with Miss Granger?_

_I mean, really?_

_Your patriarch tried to off her. Daft, you are, lad. Daft, you are._

_Now, there is a small chance that your feelings for Miss Granger are genuine and if they are, you really do need assistance in capturing her heart._

_Miss Granger is a forgiving and loving soul. She is one who sees the good in all people, so I know she would be unlikely to compare you to your retched father without further analysis of you on her part. She's all about testing theories and whatnot. We can work that darling quirk to your advantage._

_I assume that you have already tried courting Miss Granger and have failed, hence the reason why you felt the need to inquire of my legendary self, Slithering Slytherin Tosser. Indeed, when one is a member of the House of Snakes and an idiot, the odds of acquiring a Muggle-Born love interest are slim. Since you are both, there is practically no hope for you._

_I'm going to be honest, Foul Arse, I don't want to help you. In fact, I won't unless…you respond to this letter and clarify everything you love about Miss Granger. I want to know what kind of sick bastard I'm contemplating working with. When you are ready to respond, fold this letter into four quarters, and the parchment will transfigure into a quill. Use the quill to write your response. If you don't, I will know and you will not win Miss Granger's heart. Furthermore, I feel that I must inform you that she is quite a catch, and I doubt that you are the only one salivating over her like some pathetic mongrel._

_I doubt that you truly deserve Miss Granger, but if you truly feel that you do, prove it to me. Write back to me all of your feelings concerning the witch, and we will go from there._

_With much hysterical loathing,_

_Sirius_

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all that have read and/or reviewed.

Thank you so much to **cherrifly, brenluvshp, writingismagic, and amama123**.

Keep putting in your votes to for Draco vs. Theo and who the craziest Slytherin is.

Hopey you enjoyed this chapter, and I will try to post the next one on the Monday the thirteenth.

Please review and tell me what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

When Theodore was finished with his classes for the day, he returned to his dormitory. Draco was hovered over his desk writing with fervor. He glared at the boy's back and went to his own desk and fished out a fresh square of parchment, and like his letter from Black had demanded, he folded said letter into quarters. The folded parchment transfigured into a quill, and Theodore gripped the writing utensil with a frown and inspected it with deep consideration. One could never be too careful when receiving instruction from a former Gryffindor, even if the instructor came from The Noble House of Black.

Theodore chortled, especially if the instruction came from The Noble House of Black. That family birthed some nutters into the Wizarding World that's for sure.

Once the quill passed the scrutiny of Theo, he carefully dipped the tip into a small bottle of ink and touched the ready parchment.

_Dear Sirius Black,_ he wrote and a strange sensation shot up through his hand into his arm and shoulder, up his neck and tickled his brain. Theodore shuddered and rotated his head around and around to rid himself of the tickle. He went to drop the quill to scratch his head but found the action impossible. The quill would not leave his hand. In fact…

Theodore let out a helpless grunt.

His hand was writing without his consent. The quill scurried across the parchment, and he willed his hand to stop. He clenched the muscles in his arm, he used his other hand, and he used his wand, and nothing could stop the quill attached to his right hand. He gazed over at Draco and debated whether to ask the bloke for help but refrained. They were at war now. Enemies. Enemies did not ask enemies for assistance unless there was a bigger enemy to fight, and this was simply an act of interference.

Finally, after a few minutes, Theo's hand stopped and the quill transfigured back into the folded up parchment. With untrusting hands, he risked picking up the paper and reading what he had not control of writing.

_Let's be honest. You are an adult, and I'm almost there. I want to shag Hermione Granger. I want rid her of her uniform and see what she is hiding underneath those blasted clothes. I want to see what color her knickers are, and then I don't want to see them at all. I want to lick every inch of her skin and see if she tastes like rainbow lollies. I want to bring her into my home and shag her on every square inch in my manor, especially in the Ancestral Room where the entire deceased Nott portraits dwell. I bask at the thought of having them watch me fill her with our first child and sully their name. I want Granger to give me lots of babies. I want to see her round with my legacy and be proud to replace her Muggle father's name with my own. I want my mother's ring on her finger, so Granger can be my queen for the rest of our lives. I want her to teach our children the importance of education. We are both brilliant, and we will make brilliant babies. I want to watch her breastfeed and nourish our children and love them the way a mother should. I want to love our children the way a father should, and I will love Hermione the way husband should love his wife. As in, I want to shag her all the time and make it legal._

_ -T.N._

Dear Gods!

Theo goggled at what he had unintentionally written. There was no bleedin' way that he could send this to Black. The man would never help him if he sent him this. This was…This was… everything that Theo subconsciously thought but was too much of a gentleman to speak honestly about. Great Salazar, his words sounded like they had come from a rudding Malfoy! They were possessive and inwardly crass people.

Theo cursed and banged his forehead on the desk.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" he hissed into the mahogany and did not notice Draco turn away from his desk and throw him a worried look. Theo raised his head and bared his teeth at his letter and then at Black's. "I hate you, you Blood Traitorous Gryffindor!"

At his words of loath, Black's folded letter began to unfold and flatten. The ink from Black's little boy scrawl disappeared, and the parchment began to refold and make the shape of an envelope. Then the letter Theo wrote began to fold in on itself and lodge itself into the envelope.

A tapping at the dormitory door caught his attention, as well as Draco's. The other wizard frowned in confusion and warily walked over and opened the door. An owl flew in with a deafening squawk and swooped over towards Theodore's desk and picked up the letter.

"No!" yelled Theo and scrambled to get the parcel back. He grabbed his wand and shot a Stunning Jinx at the bird but missed. The owl squawked again but in a stutter like fashion. It was like the stupid, bloody bird was laughing at him. Theo shot another jinx, and the owl circled around and around the room like the fowl was taunting him.

"Draco, help me kill the damned thing!" he growled out at his former friend who was eyeing the bird with caution.

"How did it get down here?" asked Draco.

"Who the bloody hell cares how it got down here?!" Theo cursed and tossed jinx after jinx at the flying nuisance. The owl circled the ceiling and glided about, completely calm with and undeterred from the spells targeting him.

Draco furrowed his brow and grabbed his wand and shot a jinx at the bird. He missed and the stuttering squawk returned.

"I think it's laughing at us." Draco jeered and threw an incredulous look at Theo.

"The bloody thing is taunting us. It could simply just fly out of here. The doors open. _Stupefy_!"

"You missed."

"Shut up!"

"I'm just saying," shrugged Draco with a smirk.

"You missed, too, arsehole!"

"Why _are_ you trying to stop the bird?"

"Because,"

"Why?"

"None of your damned business. If you're not going to help, then go back doing whatever your prissy little self was doing."

"Git!" Draco called him.

"Ponce!" Theo called back, lowering his wand and turning his full attention to the other wizard.

"Plonker!"

"Wanker!"

"Not for much longer. Once I have Granger…" Draco wickedly smirked which quickly vanished when he was hit in the chest with a spell causing him to fall over. He stared at his friend in betrayal and horror before setting his jaw and hopping to his feet and firing his own jinx. He cackled triumphantly when the spell hit Theo in the chest, and the boy fell onto the floor. From there, he tossed a Jelly Legged Jinx at Draco who lost his balance on his noodle-legs and fell back onto the stone floor. Theodore then climbed back up to his feet to only fall down again, being Jelly Legged Jinxed, too, by Draco. Rolling onto his stomach, Theo shot a Tickling Jinx at Draco who rolled out of the way from the spell and shot his own Tickling Jinx. Theo dodged it by inches. Together they rolled around on the dungeon floor, dodging each other's spells and calling each other obscenely, creative names.

The owl was long gone and minutes ticked by. A curious, first year peaked his head in to see what the ruckus was about and was baffled. His superiors were acting not like Slytherins should. It was unacceptable. He wondered if he should interfere, but what if he got hurt?

Taylor Pucey rocked on the balls of heels debating on what action needed to be taken. He'd shame Salazar's name if he approached an authoritative figure: a Prefect or Professor Snape. Snakes do not rat out other snakes. He admitted that the safer route would be to tell Snape, for a Prefect would roll his or her eyes and tell him to mind his own damned business.

Suicidal, young Pucey must have been because he risked taking a step into the Seventh Year Dormitory and raised his wand at the rolling boys. The action had to be done, though. Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott were acting disgraceful. Somebody had to put them in their place. Saddening that a first year had to step up to the plate and use a Stunning Jinx that he was technically not supposed to have mastered yet.

"_Stupefy! Stupefy!_" he bellowed at each of them. His superiors slackened, and he chanced another step into the room. The way the two imbeciles had limped gave them both a spectacular view of who _Stunned_ them, and Little Pucey whimpered in fear.

"What's going on?" a voice came from behind him and Pucey screamed, twirled around, and stuck his wand at the imposer. When he saw who the imposer was, he screamed again. "I'm so sorry!"

Blaise Zabini quirked a brow down at the unbelievably short first year. The little bloke was shaking in his trackers; he was petrified.

"For what?" inquired Blaise, and Little Pucey whimpered.

"I _Stunned_ your friends. I'm sorry, but they were acting like…like…I don't know. They weren't acting like they should. Have they lost all decorum? What the bloody hell is wrong with them? They should be ashamed. If I pulled something like this with one of my peers, we would be shunned. Have they no honor for the Great Salazar? Tell me, Superior Zabini what has caused them to break character and war against each other?"

Superior Zabini sighed and brought a hand to the boy's shoulder and stooped down to look Little Pucey in the eye. "As you grow and mature into an older lad, you will discover a side of yourself that will entice you to break away from all the things that the Great Salazar Slytherin has taught to all male descendants of his House. That side is created by one thing and one thing only, Inferior Pucey."

"And what is that?"

"The female species."

Little Pucey blinked and then scrunched his tiny face in repulsion. "My superiors are fighting over a _girl_!"

"Afraid so, Inferior," Superior Zabini piped in with a reluctant nod and patted him on the shoulder.

"That's an embarrassment! Male Slytherins don't fight over _girls_! It's right there in Lucius Malfoy's Handbook. Chapter seventeen clearly rectifies if two male Slytherins fancy the same girl, they either duel to the death or both step aside, for a female is not worth the risk of losing a fellow, male viper. If Superior Malfoy and Superior Nott had actually been dueling each other until a demise had occurred, I would have not interfered. Because they were merely throwing jinxes at each other fit for toddlers, I was confounded and chose to _Stun _them."

"You did the right thing." Superior Zabini said, and Little Pucey felt a little better. "But that doesn't mean you won't get pummeled when they wake up."

Little Pucey whimpered. "Will you protect me?"

Superior Zabini's eyes bulged and then he laughed and shook his head from left to right. "Don't count on it."

"Why not? Please," plead Little Pucey.

"You let yourself be seen. You may have done the right thing, but you did it the wrong way. What is the number one rule, Inferior?"

Little Pucey wailed in agony. "Don't get caught!"

"I suggest you go and hide now." Blaise told him and smirked as Little Pucey sprinted towards the Common Room and out the dungeon entrance. He then turned to his mates with a frown and debated leaving them like that until the jinx wore off but shirked the pleasant idea. Waving his wand, the two stirred and scrambled to their feet.

"Why that little-" Theodore bellowed.

"When I get my hands on him…" Draco vowed.

"Pathetic, the both of you," tsked Blaise. "You two got owned by a first year."

"We were distracted." Theodore told Blaise, and Draco nodded in agreement.

"Slytherins do not get distracted. Slytherins distract. Have you no pride? Has Granger completely rattled both of your brains? Neither of you have even kissed her, nor has she even shown any remote interest to be. Bloody hell, mates, if you're going to fight over a girl, fight over someone who you may have a chance with."

"I do have a chance with her." Draco argued, his thumb pointing to his chest.

"I have a better chance." Theo claimed.

"Pansy was right." Blaise shook his head in shame. "You're both going to lose everyone and anyone you call a friend. Do you remember what The Sorting Hat sings at the beginning of each school year? This is where you will make your real friends. You two are not acting like Slytherins. You're acting like Gryffindors only worse: sappy and gormless. You two may be brave enough to fight each other for a girl but think about the girl for just a bleedin' second. She's not worth it!"

"Granger is-"

"You have no-"

"She's a Mudblood!" Blaise exclaimed causing Draco and Theo to jump. Their quiet and statuesque friend had never raised his voice at them ever. Or anyone for that matter.

"A Mudblood is what Granger is. Tame her hair, gloss her lips, dress her up in fancy robes and that fact will never change. And, yeah, I admit. We all are a bit more lenient and tactful towards the less than adequate bloodlines these days. But when it comes down to it…when it really comes down to it…we still are conformists. We still have duties. Nott, you may think that you can do whatever the bloody hell you want to because your dad is dead, and you own the business now. Think of your business investors and partners. Are they going to pat you on the back when you bring a Mudblood into the mix? And, Draco, we all know that if you end up with Granger, you're just going to keep her in the dark. You're all talk, and you won't have the balls to marry her let alone tell everyone she's your girlfriend."

"You've screwed Mudbloods, Zabini!" Theodore accused viciously. "Hell, you've shagged Muggles."

Draco nodded his head, agreeing to Theo's words.

"But I've never brought one home," Zabini affirmed and inhaled sharply. "Please tell me that you will stop this nonsense."

Draco and Theodore eyed him and then eyed each other. With regret and hopelessness, they swung their heads from left to right.

"I love her, Blaise." Theodore whispered. "Now more than ever since what she had the strength to do to my dad. She's fearless and strong. Those traits are difficult to find in Pureblood, Slytherin women. I don't bloody care that her parents are Muggles, and I don't bloody care what my investors think. I don't need them. I don't need anyone or anything except for Granger."

Slitting his eyes, Blaise sneered at Theo and then turned his gaze on Draco. "And what about you, Coward?"

Draco was gripping his wand tightly in his fist and staring at his shoes. With his chin still down, he pinned his eyes on the one who questioned him. "I want her, Zabini. I love her so much. I want her so badly that I have lost those that I consider friends, and I don't even have Granger to soften the loss. I have no ally and no mate. I can only go up. I have two choices. I choose you and Pansy, or I choose to woo Granger until she'll have me. I had no idea, Zabini, you felt that way about Mudbloods. You always seemed ambivalent. I can't be friends with you if you see Granger as mere filth and nothing more. I can't be friends with Pansy if she sees Granger as a simple girl. I cannot accept my duties as a Pureblood son of an elite lineage if I cannot have her at my side."

Blank and unreadable were adjectives describing Blaise until his lips and teeth split his face open in a smile.

"Great," he beamed and shuffled deeper inside the dormitory, brushing passed his baffled mates and going over to his desk. He set his satchel on the desk and opened it and fished out some decorated parchment. "Now that we got all that cleared up, we can get back to work. The Weaselette is one tough cookie to break, mind you. It's all Harry this and Harry that. And Harry Bleedin' Potter could probably impregnate me in one squirt!" he shrilled in a high voice with his fingers tucked under his chin. "I really don't think I can seduce her, mates, so I'm thinking that what she needs is a secret admirer along with a sexy Slytherin Study Buddy. The problem is she said that she won't comply until Gryffindor is beaten by Slytherin. Draco, catch that Snitch, and you are well on your way to Granger. Theo, you fickle arse, how dare you not show up for tryouts. Do you have any idea how bad it's going to look when I bump Vincent from the team and present you with the position as Keeper? But it's the only way we're going win."

"You can't just take over, Blaise." Draco hotly pointed out. "I'm the captain."

"You're an arse, is what you are. As co-captain, I'm overruling you, and I promote myself as captain. You are now my bitch."

"You can't do that!" Draco spouted out, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"I just did. You are not fit to rule the Quidditch team." Blaise sighed dramatically. "I'll continue to keep my eye on Ginny Weasley, but my course of distracting her will start on the field. You two," he said while pointing to his mates. "Do whatever it is that you feel you need to do in order to win over Granger. I really don't care about her blood, so go get her. I just hope you fellows know what you are getting into, and I pray to Salazar, Merlin, and God that you can get yourself out if needs be. Furthermore, may the best Slytherin win. I'm not Pansy. I'll be there for the winner and for the loser because like she said, friends are hard to come by. I'm not going to toss you both just because you're acting stupid over the same girl."

"Wow, Blaise." Draco murmured.

"Yeah, that's real deep of you." Theo said solemnly.

"Shut up!" Blaise exclaimed and handed his mates each a parchment paper. "Here's my plan for the game on Saturday. Read it over; it is your Bible and your homework. You have to do this because if I can't distract the Weaselette, you two aren't going to be able to get Granger. Understood? Good. So this is what I have planned."

* * *

A/N: Thank you all that have read and reviewed. Thank you: **writingismagic, amama123, cherrifly, and Vaneesa85**.

There was a bit of mushy!Draco and mushy!Theo in this chapter. A tad OOC there for just a second, but I had to get their honest feelings out to my readers.

A lot of people are wondering how the boys are going to win over Hermione. Just wait and see! It will be a slow and selfish process for both boys.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please tell me what you think of it. Read and Review and all that fun.

Put your votes for the craziest Slytherin and for the boys!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you to all that have read and or reviewed.

Thank you to writingismagic, Vaneesa85, amama123, and cherrifly. You four are my most faithful of reviewers. Thank you for the flattering words, comments, and questions.

In this chapter, it touches on mental illness and medications. I am not poking fun at those that need medication. I happened to need those while growing up as did many of my family members. We're not that crazy, okay. Just a litte twitching and drooling here and there. *wink, wink*

As for Draco! Yes, he really wants Hermione and not just for shagging. He's just a perve, and so is Theo. Don't let his charm fool you. I warn you now, he can be just as nasty as the rest of them.

Lo and behold, this is the last chapter I am taking votes for Draco vs. Theo. To those who have been reading and not reviewing, if you want your say to be considered, I suggest a simple piping up of one or two words may just give you the ending you want.

Put your vote in for the craziest Slytherin. I will be taking those votes up until Chapter 15. Until then, enjoy Chapter 10!

* * *

Draco and Theo still chose to sit far away from each other at dinner that night and breakfast the next morning. They both decided the best way to woo Granger was to keep their distance from each other. Draco sat at one and Theo at the other.

The Owl Posts came and the two Slytherins got their mail, both unknowing it was from the same person. Theodore stared resentfully at his letter, more than a little timid at the thought of revealing the contents on parchment within. He slipped the parcel into his bag, making the decision to open it later, perhaps during his free hour.

Draco eagerly ripped into his without a second thought.

_Dear Perverted First Cousin Once Removed,_

_ Today is your first lesson on how to court a Muggle-Born witch. As your first assignment, I want you to go to the Muggle Literary Section and check out two books: one of your choosing and the other, _The Complete Works of Shakespeare. _In _The Complete Works of Shakespeare, _pick and choose wisely certain sections you want to read. I do not expect you the read the entire book. Report back to me in one week_ _what you have read. If I find your report compatible, I will give you your next assignment. If your report is not compatible, you will have to do the assignment again._

_-P.S._

_Avoid speaking to Miss Granger if you can. Oh, yes. I know it's Miss Hermione Granger that you so desperately crave, Dolt. Not that I blame you. *Sigh* Twenty years ago, I would have been all over that fine piece of angel food cake._

_-S.B._

Draco's heart slammed into his chest bone and cannonballed into his stomach in apprehension. The nutter knew he was fancied Granger, and that was just bloody perfect, wasn't it? Black was Potter's Godfather. There was nothing that could stop the man from telling his Godson what Draco has been up to. He would just have to take comfort that Black had not told anyone yet.

Draco folded up the parchment and shoved it into his book bag and started towards class. He would have to go to the library during lunch or after all his classes were finished.

Theo skipped lunch that day and made his way towards the library. He was a meter from the entrance when realizing that Draco was going in the library, as well. They stood apart from each other with intense awkwardness right outside the library doors. Theo made a move to go in, and Draco did, too. They both froze.

"Go ahead," gestured Theo with a swooping hand.

"No, you first," said Draco, and Theo shook his head.

"I insist."

"It's alright. You can go."

"No, no. Go on ahead. Really," Theo managed a smile, and Draco's lips quirked.

"I'd feel better if you went first. You closer to the door after all,"

"Just a bit," shrugged Theo.

The two Slytherins heard a sharp intake of breath and turned their head towards the noise. Hermione Granger was standing away from them but with obvious intention to enter the library, and she looked quite lovely that day, the boys mused. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and she was holding her school robe and books close to her chest. Wariness was evident in her demeanor as she flicked her eyes back and forth between the two boys. They smirked naughtily at her and simultaneously grabbed ahold of a doorknob and pulled open they heavy barrier blocking her away from her sanctuary. Frowning at them, she inched towards the entrance skeptically. Eventually, she passed the boys, who continued with their smirking, and disappeared inside. In a rush, the boys let go of the doorknobs and scampered inside, their shoulders bumping into each other. Their smirks faded, and cold indifference poured over them.

"What are you doing here?" Theo asked, a little ice in his tone.

"None of your bleedin' business, Nott," spat Draco.

"Fine," clipped Theo, and he disappeared into the stacks, as well. He passed by Granger who was sifting through some tomes and fancied the idea of chatting her up but deemed Black's letter more imperative at the moment.

He placed his satchel on a study table and took out the letter and broke the sealant. He unfolded the flaps of parchment and read:

_Dear Slytherin Sicko, _

_ I do hope that you enjoyed my neat, transfiguration trick and the little jinx attached to it. The jinx is akin to the Babbling Jinx only in literacy form. Once the quill is touched by a human hand, the writing device produces the magic that connects itself to the nerves from the tips of the fingers up into the brain. The jinx causes the writer to write their deepest thoughts, and I do hope you liked my owl. Pandora is such a loyal and brilliant bird, don't you think?_

_Anyway, I am responding to your letter, though I must admit, young lad, that it'd be better suited for Play Wizard. You have quite the imagination, but most people suffering from insanity and obsession do. I would feel comfortable if you sought help…the psychiatric kind. St. Mungo's has fabulous department for confused youngster such as yourself. However, I assume you will shirk my advice, tear up this letter, and seek Miss Granger by your own means. I cannot have that happen. My Godson likes the girl alive and quirky, so I shall help you despite the fact that you are a trauma away from becoming a killer. Tell me, are you on any sort of medication? I'm afraid of the answer. Neither one is promising._

Theo glowered at Black's writing. There was no bloody reason to be a ponce! So what if he had odd fantasies about Hermione. Everyone had odd fantasies. Everyone had their kink. That didn't mean he was crazy or was going to become killer like his dad. He couldn't honestly claim that he would never kill someone, but that didn't make him a killer, and he would never do that to Hermione. Ever.

Yeah, so he had tri-daily capfuls of certain potions that his therapist ordered him to take. Not a big deal. A lot of teenagers need a shot of medicated brew; that did not make them cuckoo. For instance, Pansy was on similar potions and dosages such as he, and she was a relatively normal bint.

Refusing to read the rest of the letter, Theo folded it up into quarters and then ripped the parchment into pieces. He had enough of Black. The man may be a legend, but Theo did not need him to win over Granger. The forthcoming advice would have been appreciated, but Black could bugger himself and his tricks like a true Gryffindor Git. Getting Granger was top priority, and Theo was going to have her. He did not need a contemptuous, former Gryffindor, Blood Traitor to achieve his beauty. Draco may be the Slytherin Sex God, but Theodore was the Slytherin Seduction God, and yes there was an effing difference, Thank You Very Much!

With animalistic determination, he stuffed the shredded parchment into his satchel and backpedaled in the direction from whence he came and discovered Granger still sorting through some books between two stacks. Placing a blank but somewhat pleasant expression on his face, he glided towards her and took the books from her hands and placed them on the nearby trolley. Hermione flashed him an offended look and opened her mouth to undoubtedly retort her perpetual dismay on what he had the audacity to do. He brought gentle fingers to gap between her lips and resisted the urge to stick his digits inside the warm, wet cavern.  
"Shhh," he whispered and encircled his free arm around her waist and drew her towards him. Panic erupted in her eyes, so he leaned down. Way down. Blimey, she was tiny thing. And he brushed his lips against her forehead.

"Mr. Nott," her voice wavered through his fingers, but there was a distinct hint of admonishment. He lowered his fingers, making sure to brush them over her lips lingeringly, and tuck them under her chin. He tilted her head upwards, so he could see her pretty face properly.

"Miss Granger," he smirked and he pulled her closer to him. Rigidness enveloped her form, and insecurity contorted some lines upon her features. "I'm going to be blatant. I fancy you, and this is not a game. You probably think I've gone barmy, but you must know that my feelings for you are far from a passing persiflage. I want you, Hermione, and I have for a while. I understand that you're probably scared shiteless right now because of what my stupid father tried to do, but I'm not him, and I refused to be compared to such an anathema.

"Go out with me, Granger. There's a Hogsmeade trip next weekend. Come with me." He said and lowered his lips once more to brush across her forehead and down her nose. He pecked the cuteness of the tip and whispered, "Please come with, Hermione," and then dropped his lips a little lower, and she gasped so preciously, he was unable to control himself. His lips latched onto her bottom lip and nibbled at the morsel. He heard a squeak, and he detached his mouth with a deep laugh. Her eyes were large and taking up the majority of her face. He checked for tears and found none which was relieving; she wasn't so horrified that he kissed her that she had to wail. He did search out for other emotions, though. Confliction and shock were the two main events coursing around Hermione, and Theo knew he could work with that. "Is that a yes?"

Hermione blinked and _then_ her tempting bottom lip that he had given love to started to tremble and protrude, and Theodore wondered what the bloody hell he was supposed to do now. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to suckle that bottom lip until her tears subsided.

"I'm sorry." Theodore apologized. "I shouldn't have stopped so soon. Here, let me fix it." He lowered his head again and attached his mouth to her agape one.

In his arms, she was completely still. She did not push him away nor did she pull him closer which Theodore would have liked. His back was starting to get a hitch in it. Merlin, she was itty bitty compared to him, so he took her arms and looped them around his neck and lifted her at the waist. From there, he anchored her to his form with his arms and continued to kiss her while her Mary Jane clad feet bumped against the top of his shins. Her lips were so soft and pliant. Really pliant. So pliant, it was like…she wasn't even moving them.

Theodore broke from her lips and frowned at Hermione who stared at him like he was a wall that had suddenly appeared in front of what was supposed to be a clear pathway, and she baffled on how it got there.

"Er…Granger?" he bravely questioned and set her down on her feet.

The moment that her feet touched the floor, she wrenched away from him, picked up her bag, and dashed away before he even knew what was happening.

Once Theodore realized that he was staring at empty space, he groaned and turned around to rest his head on a bookshelf. He groaned once more but with a little bit more self-pity and drama and then started banging his head against the wood.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" he bemoaned and then rubbed his forehead. "Ouch."

There he went, letting his blasted hormones and pride take control of his body and mind. And there he was acting very unlike himself. He was a cool, composed, collected individual. He did not stoop to such extravagant levels of displaying inner turmoil. That was for Hufflepuffs and PMS-ing Gryffindors, for Salazar's sake, and he was most certainly not any of those. How could he think that he could just kiss Granger without any buildup? Girls like her need weeks and weeks of foreplay before one can be bestowed the privilege to even hug the chit.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he growled, "I'm such a bleedin' idiot."

"Yes, yes you are," a voice came from behind. He whirled around to face Ginny Weasley with her wand pointed at him.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thanks so much to the those that have read and or reviewed the last chapter.

Thank you **DrAmIoNeLoVeR1154, Vaneesa85, amama123, writingismagic, and cherrifly **for your reviews.

In this chapter, I am referencing to Hamlet Scene V act one, so clearly I do not own anything in this chapter.

So counted up the votes for Draco and Theo. My Dear Sweet Draco, you came in at the top by two more votes than your adversary. I will take this information into great consideration while writing the ending. (Which I am no where near yet) This is going to be a long story. I have a lot written, but I am only at the end of September. I still have two-in-a-half more months to write. On this note, Readers, it is unlikely that I will inform you of Hermione's ultimate choice until the end chapters of this story. So if some of you are planning to ditch the fic because things aren't looking up for your favorite love interest for Hermione, all I ask is that you stick it out and not become impatient.

Also down the road, ( I might as well tell you now), I will be intertwining more Harry Potter characters into the fold. What Draco and Theo are doing is influencing other people, too.

So, yeah! Enjoy the Chapter, please!

* * *

_Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he growled, "I'm such a bleedin' idiot."_

"_Yes, yes you are," a voice came from behind. He whirled around to face Ginny Weasley with her wand pointed_ _at him._

"Shite," he cursed and hurriedly picked up his satchel and made a run in the same direction that Hermione left in. He passed stacks and stacks and knew the entrance was just around the corner. Just a bit further…

_THWAAAMP!_

"Geroff!" grumbled Theo at Harry Effing Potter.

Potter had come from one of the passing stacks like he was waiting for Theo to pass by. He tackled him to the ground and was trying to wrap his hands around Theo's neck.

"You Sick Pervert!" spat Potter. "You dare to try and touch Hermione again! Well, I'll show you!"

_PUNCH!_

_GROAN!_

"STAY!" **_PUNCH!_** "AWAY" _PUNCH!_ "FROM!" **_PUNCH!_** "HER!" **_SMACK!_** "SLIMEY" **_SMA-UNCH! _**"GIT! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"_Stupefy!" _came from the distance and Potter was blown off of Theo He soared back into the stacks from whence he lunged himself from and stayed there.

* * *

_Ten minutes prior..._

Draco had glared after Theo and made his own way into the stacks and found a study table near the Muggle Literacy Section. He set his satchel upon it and eyed the bookshelves that were near. He wanted to look for a book of his choice before he set out to find the Shakespeare bloke.

He was in the P section and picked out a random book.

_Pygmalion,_ by George Bernard Shaw.

Flipping through the pages, not really paying attention to what the story was about, he noticed that the format was a script. _Pygmalion_ was a play. He skimmed the synopsis and deemed the book compatible but for another time. He placed the book back and chose another one.

_Peter Pan, _J.M. Berrie.

The synopsis gave a brief interpretation that there were magical beings and such things, and Draco balked. What kind of rubbish did Berrie think he knew? Muggles trying to write about magic. Cripes, Granger! What kind of assuming authors did she grow up reading about?

Regardless of how offended Draco was that a mere Muggle had written about fairies and flying people, _Peter Pan _would have to be read eventually. He needed to know just how barmy this Berrie was.

After setting the book back in its place, he went to another section of the Muggle Literacy area and picked up another random book and quickly found the outline. From that, the book claimed to be a spectacular paradigm of narrative framework.

_The Princess Bride, _by William Goldman.

The title led Draco to believe that the novel would be better suited for a little girl who liked to dress up in her mum's dress robes and wear her makeup and needed a bedtime story every bloody night. As Draco began to delve into the summary, he had to admit, the book sounded interesting even though there were kinds of fantastical and magical topics within the pages. He also had to admit that the title could describe Granger. She was his princess and someday would be his bride.

He placed the book by his bag and went into search for _The Complete Works of Shakespeare_. When he found what he was looking for, he cringed. Bloody Hell! That Muggle had way too much time on his hands. How was he supposed to choose? Skimming the index, there was loads and loads of shite the man wrote: plays, sonnets and poetry.

To warm himself up to the idea of reading a Muggle's Elizabethan codswallop, he opened up the tome to a random page and whispered aloud:

"_O, treble woe  
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,  
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense  
Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,  
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:"_

"Well, that's cheerful," scoffed Draco with an eye roll. "Shakespeare must've been a drama addict. The bloke had no life due to writing so bloody much, that he had to make up characters and embellish their lives."

"_Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,  
Till of this flat a mountain you have made,  
To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head  
Of blue Olympus."_

Draco snapped the book closed, leaving his thumb where he left off, pinning a withering glare at the person who dared to sneak upon him and finish Laerte's line.

Oh.

It was Granger.

His lips formed into a smirk before he opened his mouth to unabashedly flirt with the wench. But then he remembered Black's insistence that he refrain from talking to her.

Snapping his mouth shut, he turned away from her and was going to march off towards his study table where his things were, but something was…different.

He whirled around and zeroed calculatingly on Granger's mouth.

Physical state: swollen.

He marched towards her, ready to shout at her within an inch of her life and demand he tell her who dared to snog what's his. He was cut short, though, by her speaking again.

"You read one line of William Shakespeare, and you think you have his entire life within your knowledge?" challenged Hermione. Her tone was so full of sass and swottiness, and she even folded her arms and tapped her Mary Jane clad foot.

Damned kissable, she was. No wonder someone smooched her good and proper. Not that he was going to let the bastard in question get away with it.

"What? No clever, snarky, retort from the Slytherin Prince? I'm appalled, Malfoy. In more ways than one actually. You let a Mudblood talk down to you, and you are willingly in the Muggle Literacy Section of the library. What would Daddy Ferret think?"

_Screw Black,_ Draco thought and marched towards his precious princess with a snarl on his face.

"Well, Granger, I do have Shakespeare's life in my hands. I'd think that would be enough to make assumptions. As for being degraded by a Mudblood, well…" he had spat, but his tone softened into flirtation, "if it's by you, that's okay."

Her delicate features contorted into annoyance, and he gripped her chin and pulled her towards him.

"Who kissed you? Who dared to touch what's mine? Tell me, my sweet filth. I shall strip the skin from his meat little by little, starting with his mouth."

Antipathy filled her eyes as they widened, and she gasped, his fingers digging into her cheeks. He took advantage of her opened mouth and shoved a breath mint into her mouth with his free hand. He pathetically shuddered in randiness when his forefinger and thumb made contact with her tongue.

"Granger, the things you do to me without even meaning to…" he rasped and Hermione flared her nostril in malevolence, and he hardly cared. She had been looking at him like that since their first year. He vowed this would one of the last times that she did.

Draco brought the cuff of his sleeve to her lips and rubbed the material against them, ensuring to get the previous bloke's germs off before grabbing her shoulders and yanking her closer. She grunted and pushed at his shoulders.

"Let go of me, Malfoy." She demanded, and he chuckled and ignored the pressure she was putting on his shoulders. He bent down and captured her lips.

"MMMM!" she screamed against his lips and pushed at his chest. His lips broke contact with hers but only temporarily. Immediately, he swooped down once more and peppered soft kisses repeatedly on her closed lips. Each time his lips lightly applied more suction against hers, Hermione gave a nasally noise of opposition. After approximately thirty seconds of this, she must have been fed up, for she grunted and shoved at his shoulders with impressive strength causing him to stumble backwards and pout.

"Granger," he whined. "I didn't even get to taste the mint."

With her Gryffindor battle face on, Hermione straightened her right arm and her wand slid out from her sleeve and into her waiting hand. Without any warning, she aimed it at him. Draco was rather impressed by the action and wondered if she hid her wand there at all times just in case some unbalanced codger decided to pull her into an abandoned ally and attempt to defile her.

"Stay away from me!" she yelled. "You and Nott both! I don't care how good of kissers you are, or how pretty you both are! I will not be humiliated for Slytherin sport! I can't believe you and Nott are doing this. I really thought this was beneath you, and I really thought he wasn't like you or his father."

"He is nothing like his father, Granger!" Draco hissed. "And this is not a game, at least not like you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione sniffled, and Draco noticed the reddening in her cheeks. Merlin, she was going to cry.

"Granger…" he said softly and outstretched his hand. "Come here."

There was a myth going around the school that Granger could produce one heart-clenching tear that could drive a man to homicide or suicide depending on the issues of the witness. Draco received firsthand experience that the myth…was utter bollocks. Real life, Granger stood there with her wand erect and dewed up eyes. That one tear slipped from her left eye and glided down her cheek and dripped off her jaw and fell onto her uniform jumper, absorbed into the material.

"Hermione," he tried again with her first name. "Come here. I won't hurt you."

She growled and lowered her wand and wiped her cheeks with her hand and ran from him. Draco ran after her, but the stupid bint was fast. He lost her in seconds.

"Damn! Shit! Hell! Bloody! Arse! Fu-"

_PUNCH!_

Draco's cursing was cut short when heard the distinct sound of skin and bone violently meeting with skin and bone. He followed the noise, and briefly wondered where Madam Pince was. If a fight was happening in the library, it meant that the uptight librarian was nowhere near.

He turned the corner and saw Potter's balled-up fists connecting with Theo's face while the Weaselette watched from the side with a self-righteous smirk. Rage boiled inside of Draco, and he got his wand out and aimed at the irritating Half-Blood that has plagued his whole Hogwarts existence.

"Stupefy!" he aimed and shouted. With vague interest, he watched The Boy Who Lived flail in between two stacks. The She-Weasel jumped at the scene and whipped her own wand out, but Draco was ready.

"_Immobulus_," he swished at her, and she stood motionless. He turned towards Theo who had swollen eyes, a busted lip, and various other injuring upon his face. Draco was tempted to abandon him and give Potter the same treatment but didn't.

Theo opened a puffy eye and hissed in pain. "Draco?"

"You okay?"

"Fan-effing-tastic," he dryly quipped and tried to smile which only made the wound on his mouth gush bloodily.

Draco lowered his hand, and Theo took it and was helped to his feet.

"Dungeon or Wing?" Draco asked and his now-kind-of-friend steadied himself.

Theo slowly turned his head to the left, and both boys winced when a loud, damp crack was heard. "Uh…would you call me a pussy if I said Wing?"

Draco made a show of deep consideration before shrugging and saying, "Not today, but starting tomorrow Pussy may very well be your new nickname. I'll spread the word amongst the Superiors and Neonates first thing in the morning."

"And they call you a Slytherin," chuckled Theo as they exited the library, Draco guiding him towards the Hospital Wing because the eye swelling. "Putting off a chance to degrade? You're more Hufflepuff material. You should think about switching."

"Har, har, git," Draco sarcastically sniggered.

"I'm serious. It's your last year, and as your friend, I think you need a scenery change. I think a sett is just what you need. A pit is a little too venomous for your sensitivity."

"I will leave you here if you don't shut up. In fact, you're eyes are so swollen that I could lead you right back to Potter, and you'd be none the wiser. Do it, I will."

"No you won't."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you to all that have read and reviewed. Now just because Draco won the poll, does not mean that he will actually win Hermione's heart. His chances have merely increased than Theo's. *wink,*wink*.

This chapter is more of a filler, so I'm sorry if it's not that exciting. The juicy stuff cometh shortly!

Read and Review, my loves, and tell me what you think and who the craziest Slytherin is.

* * *

Theodore exited the Hospital Wing grumpily with a large lolly in his hand and made his way down the staircase. At the bottom, Draco was waiting for him.

"Next time, the dungeon will do." Theo glowered and Draco sniggered.

"Nice lolly. Have you a butterfly bandage in the same color on your person?"

"Shut it."

"You look all sharp: your tie is straightened and your robes are unwrinkled. Let me guess, she went all mother hen on you."

"I said shut it."

"Alright, alright. No need to get your frilly, pink knickers into a twist. We've got Potions, and you know how Professor Snape feels about twisted up, frilly pink knickers on his prized students."

Theodore snarled and fished out a small square of parchment. "That reminds me. I have to give him this."

"A medical excuse," Draco nodded.

"That and _the_ medical reasoning," Theo sourly informed.

"Are you going to tattle on Potter? Snape would love you if you did? I bet you wouldn't have to do classwork until after the New Year."

"No, it just vaguely says that I got my arse handed to me, but I am going to have a few words with Zabini."

Draco tossed him a befuddled look before realizing what his friend was implying. He nodded eagerly. "I agree."

There were a few empty seats near Granger in Potions, but Theo and Draco sat by Blaise instead who was sucking on a sugar quill. When the lesson ended, the three boys exited the classroom and started towards their next class. Near their next class was a broom cupboard to which Blaise Zabini got pushed into by his friends.

"What the bloody hell?!" cursed Blaise and stumbled inside, colliding with something that was solid but gave from the force. The thing went down and so did he.

"_Oh my G- Ow!"_

"Geroff!"

Draco closed the door behind him and Theo and both whirled around to capture where all the noise was coming from. Blaise was on top Pansy who was on top of the Weasel. The two standing Slytherins froze in boggle-ment while Blaise wiggled and cursed his way into a standing position, earning several hisses and groans from the two beneath him.

Once Blaise had fully detached himself from the Pansy and Weasley and staggered backwards towards his mates, the three boys soaked in the scene before them…and wished they hadn't.

"Oh," Draco started.

"My," said Blaise.

"Shagging hell," finished Theo.

"Do you three mind?!" screeched Pansy from the floor in a fumbled state while wiping at her mouth. Her school robe was off in the corner along with her uniform jumper. Her white, oxford button up shirt was undone, displaying an emerald green bra and an ample amount of skin. The boy beneath her had his pants around his ankles and, horrifyingly, his underwear, too. His his robe and jumper were tossed aside, as well. His white shirt was also unbuttoned.

Ron Weasley covered up his private bits with abashment and tossed the boys a loathsome but nervous glance before gently easing Pansy off of him. She took the hint and scrambled to her feet but did not bother to button up her shirt. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips and yelled, "Are you three done getting in touch with your inner voyeur, disgusting perverts?! Get! OUT!"

Draco, Theo, and Blaise winced at Pansy's high pitched squawk before sprinting on clumsy, petrified legs towards the door.

The door closed behind them with a glorious bang, shielding the three boys from the evil within. However, they were not shielded from the students passing by. They dodged the questioning glances and stared at each other like they had all suffered the Cruciatus Curse and had peed themselves under the torture.

"Dear Salazar," whimpered Draco and scrunched up his eyes and turned towards the wall and started banging his forehead against the stone. "Blind me! Obliviate me! Kill me! I don't bleedin' care, just do something! Anything!"

"They were…" Theodore paused and his chest and throat stuttered in a gag, "shagging."

Blaise shook his head, his eyes glazed over like he was there but only physically. His mind was elsewhere. It was in a place where all the good and the innocent things went from the people who had lost them.

"No. They weren't shagging." He gulped and his normally dark skin paled by shades. "Didn't you notice? Pansy was…wiping at her mouth."

Draco, who had been colliding his head against the wall, seized his movements and twirled around with his wand gripped tightly in his hand and a menacing, homicidal glare on his face.

"He made her _kneel_ for him? _A weasel_!"

Draco's hand flew towards the door handle, and Theo and Blaise rushed at him, gripping his shoulders.

"Don't go back in there, Draco." Theo quietly said and in a manner that was akin to talking to a wounded animal or a small child. "You don't need to see what we all saw, again."

"But the Weas-" Draco tried but was cut off by Blaise shaking his head.

"We're all peeved, but nothing good is going to come of you barging in there with Unforgivables and Hexes at the tip of your wand. That is something that a Gryffindor would do. Are we Gryffindors, Draco?" Blaise asked, his voice also like a supportive, figure of authority.

Draco scowled at the floor and belatedly shook his head from right to left.

"What are we, mate?" Theo piped in.

"Slytherins," mumbled Draco under his breath, and Blaise nodded his head.

"That's right. We are Slytherins, and we do not attack in hopes that our half-arsed bravery will make us champions. Now Pansy knew what she was getting into. It was you two," Blaise nudged his head at him and Draco, "that suggested the idea that she distract The Weasel King. I admit, her often absences from class and breaking curfew in the last few days concerns me. Her methods of keeping Weasley busy are enthusiastically unorthodox."

"Do you think he slipped her a potion of sort?" asked Theo, rubbing at his chin. "His brothers own that shop that sells all kinds of shite."

"Don't know, but let's not be bothered by it now. Pansy is a big girl and can handle a bloody Weasley. Remember, her going after him was all part of the plan," said Blaise.

Draco nodded and then paused and shot him a skeptical glare. Theo took notice of the look and remembered with a withering glare of his own.

"That's all especially rich and creamy coming from you, Zabini. Where were you?" asked Theo.

"What? What do you mean where was I?" Blaise questioned carefully, more than a little put off by his friend's attention on him. He turned to Draco for support and uneasily found none.

"When you agreed to help Draco and me, you agreed to keep your eyes on Ginny Weasley and Potter."

"Yes." Blaise nodded his head gently. "I did, and I have."

"Where were you at lunch?"

Blaise frowned and cast Draco another glance. "Why? What happened?"

"Just tell us where you were," Theo irately said.

"Fine. I was eating lunch in the Great Hall, keeping sights on the She-Weasel. I saw her look around like she was searching for someone. She got up and left with Potter behind her. I quickly finished my meal and followed. They lead me to the library. I think they were looking for Granger. I…lost them in the stacks, and I couldn't find them. After searching for a bit, I…" Blaise paused and Theo quirked a brow as did Draco. Their dark skinned friend was abashed.

"You what?" hinted Theo.

"I may have got distracted."

Theodore scowled and Draco hissed, "You bleedin' hypocrite! You go on about how pathetic it was that Theo and I got distracted yesterday, but you turn around and do the same thing. Theo got pummeled by Potter while the She-Weasel watched. He was lucky that I wasn't far."

"What distracted you?" Theo inquired in an eerily calm voice, and Blaise shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

"A girl," said Draco. "It was a girl, wasn't it?"

"She was in need of assistance," defended Blaise.

"Assistance?" balked Draco. "Is that what they're calling it now? Do tell and spare no adjectives."

"Educational assistance. She needed someone to quiz her on her notes. If I had known that the She-Weasel and Potter were going to attack Theo for no apparent reason then…wait…was there a reason or not?"

"Potter doesn't need a reason to attack Slytherins, Blaise." Theo perfectly drawled with a cold smirk.

"I'm positive the Golden Couple was looking for Granger. If Granger and _you_ were there…Theoooo," Blaise's voice raised. "What did you do?"

Theo turned to Draco and scoffed. "Can you believe him? He's trying to turn this all on me."

But Draco just stared at him, cogs and wheels clicking into place behind his eyes. He was remembering Granger's swollen lips and something that she had said that hadn't reached home at the time.

"_Stay away from me!" she yelled. "You and Nott both! I don't care how good of kissers you are, or how pretty you both are! I will not be humiliated for Slytherin sport"_

"_You_ kissed her!"

A mask of calm indifference washed over Theo. He had sunk his teeth into his control source. He was good at lying and sublime of keeping up pretense.

But why would he? Draco was his friend. Best friend, even, but Granger was both of their desire. He had to remember that this was a competition. Not necessarily a game, but there was only room for one Slytherin and one Slytherin only in Hermione's life.

He kissed Granger, and it was damned amazing! Even though the kiss was more one sided, and she ran away…

"Yeah," shrugged Theo, letting his lips twist in a condescending smirk. "That's right. I kissed her. I tasted that sweet, swotty mouth of hers. I masticated those soft, sugary pillows. I drove my ton-"

"What a coincidence!" grit out Draco. "I did the same thing! I touched that spry tongue of hers with my fingers and smashed claim on her lips with my own. She's mine. I marked her last!"

Blaise saw something flicker in Theodore's eyes, thinking his friend looked very much like his late patriarch. He turned to Draco who was panting heavily with his hand shoved inside his pocket, his fingers most likely wrapped around his wand.

"Save your anger for the game tomorrow and direct it at our opponents," ordered Blaise in a severe tone of voice. "Target that fury into something useful. Draco," he called to him. "It's your free hour. As your Captain, I suggest you go run laps around the field and cool off. I don't want see you until practice at 4:30. Theo and I have to get to class."

Once class was over, Blaise ordered Theodore to go to a secluded spot by the Black Lake, favored by them and Draco, and take a relaxing swim.

When 4:30 rolled around, the Slytherin Quidditch team met up at the field, and Blaise surmised that Draco was about to fall over and die. Blonde hair clung in sweaty clumps on the bloke's forehead, wet stains seeped his shirt underneath his arms and down his back. His cheeks were pink from austere exoneration of pent up frustration, as well as from sun exposure.

Dampness coated Theo's skin, and his clothes clung uncomfortably to his body. He had no time to shower and contemplated the act to be redundant, knowing that he would just get filthy again during practice. His teammates, the main seven and the alternates, stood a ways from him, thinking that their new Keeper smelt kind of like squid babies and upchucked caviar.

"Gentlemen," Blaise politely nodded to his teammates, pacing in front of them with a lecherous smirk. "I'm your new Captain, and I'm going to hurt you very, very badly."

A chorus of groans replied to Blaise's words, and his smirk slipped and he glared menacingly at the other boys.

"Did I catch a scent of verbal dismay?!"

"No, Captain!" the boys yipped in unison.

"Good," said Blaise. "Pushups. Everyone. Consistently until I say stop. And go!"

Watching gleefully with power hungry, Slytherin eyes, he smirked at his struggling teammates. He zeroed in on Theo and Draco who were both a breeze away from collapsing onto the grass and curling into the fetal position and sucking their thumbs for comfort.

When Goyle looked like he was about to cry, Blaise shouted for them to halt and to flip over and do sit-ups.

Grinning wickedly, he eventually told the boys to stop and start sprinting. Draco snarled and Theo bared his teeth in promise.

So Blaise was having a little fun. He was mostly doing this to Draco and Theo, so the arsewipes knew their effing place on the Quidditch field and in real life. They better always have their emotions under control regarding the sport, regarding Granger, and regarding each other.

Whimpers and groans echoed each other when Blaise told the boys to stop, the teenagers realizing how badly they hurt once stopping their legs.

"Take a knee," he told them. Once they were all kneeled before him, Blaise handed each player a copy of his well-formulated battle tactics. "Let's go over this until we have verbalized it perfectly. Then we will practice it perfectly, and then tomorrow…we will play it perfectly."

Goyle raised his hand.

"Yes, Underling Goyle?" Blaise called out.

"We're going to miss dinner."

Blaise quirked a humored browed. "Is that right?"

The teammates murmured and bobbed their heads up and down, aside from Draco and Theo who looked piteously at their fellow players. Some of them should have known better. Blaise was taking training strategies straight from Flint and Pucey.

"Raise your hands if we should postpone our practice for those in favor of dining."

All except two raised their hands.

"Those who have ascended their limbs have just volunteered themselves for extra laps. Go!"

Draco and Theo dragged their knackered arses towards the dungeons, their feet dragging and their shoulders sagging. Blaise shadowed them with superiority in his stride and a smirk in place.

"I don't know why you weaklings are in such a delicate state," huffed Blaise. "Neither of you had to run extra laps."

"Shut it!" Draco half-heartedly groaned. He and his mates were just about to descend the stairs when self-righteous, feminine tone bit Blaise in the arse and made all three boys whirl around.

"Do you boys have any idea what time it is?" snapped Granger with her arms folded with her wand sticking out between her fingers. "You have broken curfew along with all of your teammates."

"We had practice, Granger." Theo spoke up, and Hermione swiveled her eyes on him. A blush hinted at her cheeks, but she did not back down. Draco noticed her flush and grumbled something unintelligible.

"I _know_ the practice rules, Mr. Nott." She snipped. "And you," she turned to Blaise, "new Quidditch Captain of the Slytherin Team, have violated rule number seven of the Quidditch and Student Handbook of Hogwarts by keeping your teammates from their dinner and from returning to bed at a decent hour. For such disregard and as Head Girl and patroller of this evening, I deduct ten points from you and each of your teammates for such irregularity and mockery of the regulations of this educational institute."

"Granger," Blaise smiled thinly if not forcefully. "That's seventy points."

One of her brows quirked while the other sloped downwards inquisitively as the corner of her mouth slid upwards. "Is it really?"


	13. Chapter 13

"You tossers!" spat Blaise at his mates once they entered the Slytherin Common Room. "You two just stood there with foolish, love-struck, Hufflepuff faces while she took seventy points from our house. Snape is going to have words with us!"

Draco sighed and waved his hands in surrender. "Excuse us for not being immune to Granger in her ruffled uniform and sanctimonious attitude, coming off like a school prig in need of a good lay."

Theo nodded in agreement and sighed heavily, as well. "It was like she was asking for it but not really. How could we not stand and stare and soak in the sexiest little prissy cat the school has ever housed? And another question, Blaise, how did you not notice?"

"Uh…" Blaise blinked and guffawed. "I was a little upset that she was taking points away, but yeah, I noticed. I just have a little more self-control because I'm not in love with her, and if this is what love does to a man, then I want no part of it."

Throwing his mates a disappointed scowl, he stalked towards the Seventh Year dormitories. The lights were out, and snores were attacking him at all angles. Ignoring them with an eye roll, he shuffled over to his bed and looked at the drawn curtains. That's odd. He never closed them during the day. Hesitantly, he gripped the heavy material and pulled revealing…

"Mr. Zabini," she cooed in a light whisper and brought her pointer finger to her lips while reaching with her other hand and pulling on his Quidditch practice shirt, guiding him onto the bed and closing the curtains. She raised her wand and muttered a Silencing Charm before pushing him on the bed. She swung her leg over him and crawled two fingers over his cloth covered chest. "You kept me waiting."

Blaise, still a bit dumbfounded at Luna Lovegood's presence, squeaked out, "I didn't know you would be here."

"Silly boy, I told you that I would have to thank you for helping me with my studies. Remember? At the library?"

"Well, yes, but I was thinking you meant with more sugar quills."

Sweet lips brushed against his forehead and peppered downward, smooched the slope of his nose, and breathily giggled on his mouth. "Don't worry. I brought those, too. I slipped them underneath the pillow for safekeeping."

Her lips captured his top one and pulled gently. Withholding a groan, he muffled out, "How did you get down here? How did you even find the Slytherin entrance?"

Luna hummed while shyly fiddling with his bottom lip with her tongue before releasing him. Blaise could see the shadow of her small shoulders shrug in the dark. "I was multitasking, doing two things at once, you see. I was searching for Nargles to rid Hogwarts of them and looking for the entrance. I'm a bit forlorn that I was unable to find any Nargles. They like to hide, especially so when they discover that someone is looking for them. They're a secretive breed."

"That's…fascinating." Blaise rasped out while Luna's fingers found the edge of his shirt and slipped her hand up underneath. She had nice little hands, yeah. Nevertheless, "But how did you get inside? It's password protected."

"I know," she said, a bit sadness in her tone. "The portrait appeared to be especially offended by my being there. I understood that I would be unable to enter without a password and made no indication that I had any right to enter without one. I thought I would wait for you to come and then a small boy came up to me and asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was waiting for a boy, and he gave me an odd look, but I get those all the time, so I was not offended. He then asked me which boy I was waiting for, and I told him I was waiting for Mr. Zabini. He mentioned you were at Quidditch practice and asked me my name. I told him and asked for his. Taylor Pucey, he said. Quite a darling little thing, he was. It was then that he said that he would let me inside the Common Room and direct me to your bed quarters if I did something for him."

Luna stopped talking and her hand started to tease the top part of his trousers. Blaise squirmed at the innocent but prominently suggestive meandering her fingers were doing.

"And what did you do for him…my sweet?"

"Young Mr. Pucey was particularly threatened by you and your friends, he thought if he presented you to me with hopes of a distracting gift, all would be forgiven on breaking...what was it...rule number one."

Blaise would have cursed the little pipsqueak and let out some curse words but the words died on his lips when Luna's hands flew from him and to her own shirt and began to unbutton in a very slow and painstakingly manner.

"So am I distracting you good enough? I'd be saddened to disappoint Young Mr. Pucey. Such a sweet, determined child," she said and took his hand with both hands and brought it to her lips. Her mouth grazed his knuckles, and he wondered of her purity.

And not the blood kind.

He swallowed. "You're distracting me like a professional, but I must ask…how far will you take this…interesting course of diversion?"

Her puckered lips split against one of his fingers, and her teeth latched onto it. Blaise gave a startle yelp and squirmed once more, and Luna giggled.

And not the pure kind.

"How far are you willing to let me?"

* * *

Blaise arose early that Saturday morning, breathed in deeply, and gazed down at the weight on top of him. Licking his lips, he salved at the sweet remnants of the sugar quills he and Luan made _interesting_ use of. Carefully, he merged her sleeping form onto the mattress and felt around the sheets for his trousers. Once he slipped them on, he quietly parted the bed curtains and peered out at his dorm mates who were all sleeping. His eyes flickered back to Luna who shifted in her sleep into the fetal position, the dark green contrasting enticingly with the pale skin of her exposed legs and shoulders. Slipping through the curtains, he tiptoed to his neighboring desk and sat in the chair, pulling out a clean square of parchment, a quill, and some ink.

_Dear Scarlet Haired Princess of the Lion's Den,_

_ You are an exquisite strawberry, ripe and ready for plucking. Your feisty spirit is pleasantly tart, and your beauty is juicy with a hint of sharp saccharine. I find you a fascinating feline in need of a real beast to tame your wild heart and think that I am up for such a challenge. I fancy you, to put it plainly, but am aware of your relationship with Harry Potter. There is no competition concerning me and him. He, being a celebrity, is quite capturing, and I believe that I could most likely never turn your heart away from such superiority. You must know, though, of my feelings regarding you. Perhaps it is selfish of me to write you this letter, and I fear that you may think I am imposing in a happy relationship. I have no intention of doing such a thing. If Mr. Potter truly is your golden heart's desire, then I wish you both worlds of joy._

_ With all my heart,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

Blaise gagged at his nauseating sentences of faux affection and folded up his parchment with a grimace before slipping it into an envelope. When he sealed the letter, he heard movement coming from his inside of his bed curtains and briefly wondered when the Silencing Charms had worn off. He poked his head through the slit in the material and saw Luna blinking awake. She caught his eye and smiled shyly, and Blaise brought a lip to his fingers. She nodded and silently scrambled to put on her clothes, and he slipped on his shirt.

As quietly as possible, Blaise led her out of the dormitory, a nervous tick inside of his stomach. If some of his dorm mates awoke and saw Luna there, he would never hear the end of bedding a cuckoo Blood Traitor, and someone would tattle to Snape like a kiss-arse, monkey-humper more than a true Slytherin.

The inside of the portrait swung outwards and they climbed out the entrance of the Common Room and down the chilly hallways of the dungeon area. Once making arriving on the main level, Luna kissed his cheek with eye-brow quirking chastity.

"Thank you for helping me with my studies, Mr. Zabini," she said with a dreamy smile and skipped off with her wild blonde hair bouncing and jerking behind her. Dumbly, he peered after her for a good long minute before shaking his head and muttering about Crazy Ravenclaw Bints with skin the color of vanilla pudding and an appetite for chocolate.

In a daze, he strolled towards the Owlery, noticing that it was nearly dawn and slipped the letter on a sleeping owl before making his way back towards the castle.

At the top of the staircase, descending towards the dungeons, he bumped into Pansy.

"Pansy," he blinked in surprise and took in her disheveled appearance. She was in her uniform with her oxford shirt buttoned crookedly, hair askew, and legs and feet bare. She was clutching the rest of her clothing in the crook of her elbow. There was a flush on her cheeks and purplish welts on the sides of her neck.

"Blaise," she whispered back to him in embarrassment and shyly tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

"The walk of shame," he commented, his smirk deepening into a playful leer. Her demeanor of humiliation dissipated and was replaced with an arched, pristinely kept brow and twitching lips.

"Me or you, handsome," she commented pointedly and began descending the stairs with a knowing smirk of her own. Blaise tossed her a confused look, and Pansy tapped the side of her marked up neck. "Your skin is dark, Zabini, but not _that_ dark. Is the She-Weasel as much of a lion as her brother. She must have feasted on her prey all not long. Thought you said you weren't going to actually seduce her."

Absentmindedly, Blaise brought a hand to his neck and brushed his fingers against the tender, raised skin with perplexity etched into his features.

"The She-Weasel?" he questioned and Pansy's eyes narrowed.

"Not Ginny then. Huh. If not her, then who? Daphne? Astoria? Both?" She grinned and skipped down the stairs the rest of the way, stopping at the bottom and turning around and looking up for an answer.

"None of your business, Parkinson. A gentleman never kisses and tells." Blaise frowned and followed after her down the stairs. "And I'll have you know that I was in my own bed last night unlike some slags I know."

Undeterred by the insult, Pansy cackled and gave him a scandalized look. "You snuck a girl into the Male Superior Dormitory of the Slytherin House? You dirty, naughty boy! Tell me who you shagged! The suspense is killing me, and hosh-tosh to all that gentlemanly rubbish you spouted. Let us not deceive ourselves for anything than what you really are."

"I'm not telling, Pansy," insisted Blaise and she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, buffing her nails against her rumpled shirt.

"She must be special then. Hope she doesn't distract you from the main event. That will upset Draco and Theo. Just like yesterday. Yeah, I heard about what Potter and Ginny did to Theo. Where were you?"

"If there is anyone that will become distracted from Draco and Theo's plan, that someone will be you. Getting a little too close to your assignment, Parkinson. A little too friendly, I'd say. Don't tell me you actually like The Weasel King?"

Pansy sniffed, licked her teeth, and buffed her nails again. "Don't be silly. He's just a stepping stone to perch on while those I care about the most meet their goal."

It was a spectacular answer which showed loyalty and devotion to her friends, Blaise mused. Pansy Parkinson was many nasty things, but she was loyal and looked out for her own. She was also an incredible actress and tended to put her heart into troubling situations like most females do.

Wickedness seeped into Blaise's mind, forming an entrapping idea.

"That's good." He nodded and began walking down the hallway towards the Slytherin Common Room entrance. "Because I heard that you were nothing but a passing fancy to him. Something to toss aside once he tired of you and realized that he wants Granger."

He expected Pansy to lunge after him and scratch his eyes out, but she didn't. A flash of aggro skittered across her features and a combination between a smirk and glower painted her lips.

"If you thought you could trap me in my words, Zabini, you are mistaken. I'm better than that. However, since you so desperately but pathetically attempted to humiliate me, I will say Weasley does not like Granger romantically in the least. And if he did, he certainly doesn't anymore."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Well, it wasn't Granger's name on his lips last night," she said lightly and resumed the journey down the corridor towards the Slytherin Entrance. Blaise followed behind her, purposefully keeping his distance from her.

When they entered the Common Room, a handful of students were up and about: some of the first years and some of the Quidditch players.

Draco and Theo were up and alert, studying their copies of his Quidditch strategies. They turned their heads to see who entered the Snake's Pit and smirked simultaneously at him. Draco's faltered when taking Pansy's appearance. She rolled her eyes and quickly scampered to her dormitory.

"What are you lads smiling at?" asked Blaise and collapsed next to Theo who just snorted as did Draco.

"I think it's kind of funny," said Theo.

"That it is," drawled Draco. "That it is."

"What?" Blaise asked warily.

"You broke rule number three of the Slytherin House for Superiors," stated Theo.

"Lovegood, huh," said Draco with a nod with quirked lips and an arched brow. "Was her love any good?"

"That's pretty pathetic," snorted Theo and shook his head with an incredulous expression. "Really? That's the best you have? Say something like…did you love her good? Or…were here goods _love_ly?" He waggled his eyebrows and Blaise. "And I bet they were. Stranger bird, she is, but I bet she looks soft and supple all over. I bet she _feels_ soft and supple all over."

Blaise tried to remain calm and unperturbed by his friend's suggestive and slightly crass words, but his fingers were itching to wrap around Theo's neck.

"I'd still pick Granger, though." Draco piped in with a leer, and Theo agreed wholeheartedly. "You see…Lovegood is all soft and supple like you say, Theo, much like her lovemaking. As for Granger…well…you can imagine what she'd be like. I heard she does that Muggle exercise technique that has just been introduced in Magical France. They now have it at Beauxbaton. It's called…Yoga. It requires the person to…stretch and bend themselves in precarious ways and at the same time…build strength. Mum has thought about doing it."

"My mum does do it," said Blaise with a shrug.

"I want to see Granger doing it…in her underwear…or without. I'm not picky," smirked Theo, earning a growl from Draco. "You reckon she'll do it for me on our wedding night? You know…to get the juices flowing?"

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for those that have read and or reviewed. Please do so again. :) Sorry for any mistakes. I was in a hurry to post.

Thank you **writingismagic, cherrifly, wcmmppflfgg, Vaneesa85, mooray, amama123, and the-clumsy-one**.

To **Vaneesa85**: Of course I'll keep going. :) This story will keep going and going and going until it's finished. I'm so grateful for your reviews.

To **mooray**: I'm glad you liked Sirius' magic last chapter.

To **cherrifly**: I, too, like having Pansy as Draco's friend. I like the concept of Slytherins having friends. They're human and have feelings, as well.

To **writingismagic**: I'm super glad you enjoyed Goyle's little snippet about missing dinner. It wasn't one of my funniest lines, but I'm glad you liked it. And yes, poor Blaise.

To **amama123**: I hope you know that I adore you for sticking with me from the beginning of **Silence for Jean**. Thanks so much!

Hope you liked the chapter. I think I will let you one that, while working on this, I am working on something else, too. It will be going along with **Remember the Hate**. It's not really a sequel because it will be taking place eleven years prior to **Remember the Hate**. At first, I thought I would name it Forget the Hate, but I changed my mind at it will be called **Forgiveness**. (I had a brain fart earlier and totally mixed up the important stuff of this paragraph. Please don't think I'm a weirdo!)


	14. Chapter 14

At breakfast, the She-Weasel's eyes had bulged at the letter Blaise sent under a pretense of a secret admirer. A blush of embarrassment crept upon her freckled cheeks and she hurriedly stuffed the folded parchment into the pockets of her Quidditch uniform as Potter sat down beside and kissed her on the cheek. She gave him a nervous and strained smile, but if he noticed, he did not press.

* * *

Granger was sitting in the Gryffindor stands, cheering on her fellow Quidditch players and wished them good luck as they zipped passed her. Theo and Draco smiled, if not strained, as Weasley gave her a friendly, platonic smile in return before venturing his broom over to the Quidditch stands and handed something to Pansy. It was a pansy. She smiled indulgently back at him and accepted the gift much to the horror of the housemates sitting next to her. She stood up and grabbed him by his robes and pulled him in for a kiss and whispered something into his ear that Blaise, Theo, and Draco thought to be something akin to 'good luck' much to their chagrin.

Behind Weasley, Potter and the She-Weasel whizzed past him and his younger sister clipped him on the side of the head with a disgusted sneer on her face and her boyfriend simply shook his head solemnly like he was watching and accepting his best friend was the stupidest nutter to ever grace the Hogwarts Halls.

Granger was sitting alone now, so Draco took a page out Weasley's book and decided to drop by…sans flower.

"Granger," he greeted with a smile and…bloody hell! Was that an open book in her hands?

"Malfoy," she quietly greeted back, her cheeks slightly pinking.

"Go away!" Finnegan shouted.

"You're blocking the view," whined Brown.

"I am the view," huffed Draco at the Lavender girl with a sneer and turned his attention back to Hermione. "Don't you agree, Granger?"

She sighed in annoyance and closed her book, her thumb wedged between the pages to save her spot. "Yes, Malfoy, you are very pretty. Now will you please go away? Because if I do say so myself, I believe that my book is far more interesting than you."

"Lies are unbecoming of such a lovely being of the female species." He waggled his eyebrows and clucked his tongue and swiveled his broom closer to her and whispered. "Wish me luck, love. I think I know exactly what I'm going to do with the Snitch once I catch it."

"I will do no such thing!" she shrilled in aghast and brought her book and slapped him on the cheek with the cover. He faltered a bit on his broom and chuckled darkly at her with a leer. "And you're not allowed to keep the Snitch anyway."

"We will see, Granger. We will see." Draco promised and swooped down a little closer and pecked her on the cheek in a vast motion before Finnegan, Thomas, and Longbottom could get ahold of robes. While flying away, he smirked back at her and then tossed one to Theo.

Not one to be bested by Draco, Theo flew over to the Gryffindor stands and when Granger took notice of his approaching figure, she tossed her hands up in the air and scoffed. "Really now?"

Not one for much words unless necessary, he directed his broom as close as possible into enemy territory and dug his gloved fingers into curls and pulled her forward and smooched her good on the lips. Gasps from all around the stadium erupted, and Theo vaguely heard a 'kill him' from Longbottom being drowned out by Madam Hooch's whistle.

When he disconnected his lips from Grangers, she gasped and he dared peck her one last time before the game and whispered, "Wish me luck, Princess."

He flew over towards the middle, above the sand and grass and smirked wickedly at Draco just a few players away from him, and at Potter who looked like he was about to have a seizure. The She-Weasel was gripping her broom tightly and sending him mental death threats. Weasley was besotted and gazing wistfully over at the Slytherin stands.

Madam Hooch stood between the fourteen players with a Quaffle in her hands and shot them an eyeful of distinct skepticism.

"I want the game clean and precise. It will be fair," she looked at the Slytherins pointedly, "and will be articulate." She looked at the Gryffindors. "Do not let your," she rolled her cat-like eyes, "sweethearts in the stands…distract you."

She flung the Quaffle up into the air and blew her whistle.

* * *

Harry Potter trudged through the muddy puddles on the pathway back to the castle. His head was hung low, his Quidditch robes soaked to his form from the downpour, and his Firebolt gripped in loose fingers. His six other teammates were ahead of him. They, too, were morose. Ginny must have noticed his absence by her side, for she turned around to see where her boyfriend had gone.

"Harry," she called out to him and waited for him to arrive at her side. "It'll be okay. We'll get 'em next time."

"I've never lost to them before," he muttered. "Not one since I got here."

"Well…" Ginny said a wince and shrug. "They _were_ rather good today, weren't they? It was like they actually had a plan. They've never done that before. It used to be…Goyle would knock you off your broom. Malfoy would almost get the Snitch but would be too tempted to pass up an opportunity to insult you. Zabini would just fly around and look pretty, and Nott wasn't even supposed to play. He didn't even try out this year for a spot on the team. And besides…" She stopped and lightly cupped Harry's shoulder. "Where were you today at the game? You were there, but where was your mind?"

"I did my best, Ginny." Harry defended sullenly, a little put out by his girlfriend's insinuation. She shook her head in denial.

"No you didn't. You were angry the whole time, and I get it. I'm apprehensive, too. I don't know what Nott is up to. Malfoy seems to be playing along. Hermione thinks they're out to humiliate her, and maybe she's right, but you were distracted today on the pitch. You kept looking over at her, and then and Nott, and then at Malfoy. Were you once even looking for the Snitch?"

"Of course I was," claimed Harry and frowned at Ginny, wondering where she was going to take this.

"Harry," she paused and nibbled her lower lip. "Hermione's my friend, too. My best friend, and I like to protect her as much as the next person, but…I was a bit surprised when you demolished Nott yesterday. I admit, I didn't stop you, and…I know you love me, but do you…have feelings for Hermione?"

Harry sputtered and shook his head viciously. "No! No way! Hermione is like a sister to me! I love Hermione, but I don't _love_ Hermione."

Ginny eyed him doubtfully and with a bit of hurt in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that! You know how I feel about you. Hermione is really just like a sister to me. I act this way because I feel like I need to look out for her, you know. Be like an older, protective brother."

"She's older than you," she pointed out forcefully. "And I didn't see Ron act like a prat out on the field today. He loves her like a sister, too."

"That's because he was busy trying to impress Parkinson of all people, and he loves you more because you are actually his sister. Hermione does not have six older brothers to who are willing to murder for her!"

"No! Just a whole bloody House!" snapped Ginny. "There is not a male alive in our House that would not kill for her. Just yesterday, some Fourth Year from Slytherin knocked Hermione's books out of her arms and called her a Murderous Mudblood. Little Jordan, the First Year, sprung up from nowhere before I could even summon up my Bat Bogey Hex and hexed him with really bad acne and boils on his arse. Say what you want, but Hermione is not without backup. So admit it! You kind of fancy her."

"I will do no such thing! I stand by my claim. She is my best friend. She is like my sister."

"But you were friends with her way before you were ever friends with me. During that time, you must've fancied her just a little." Ginny folded her arms, and Harry ran aggravated fingers through his sopped hair.

"I was, but I never liked her in that way. I knew she fancied your brother way before she even did. Even if I had a smidgen of non-platonic feelings towards her, I wouldn't have intervened. Now, I would appreciate if you would stop this jealous act. I simply had a bad game with the Slytherins caused by my worry over Hermione's well-being because she is my _friend_."

"It's not a jealousy act, Harry!" screeched Ginny and stalked off towards the castle at a faster pace, quickly leaving him behind.

Harry shot her back a flabbergasted look and followed behind her at a slower pace. He heard something wet and crinkly underneath his Quidditch boot and lifted his foot and saw a folded up piece of parchment with bits of mud and water soaking it. With heavy curiosity, he bent down and picked up what looked like a letter. The rain was still pouring down buckets, so he pocketed the letter and made his way towards the castle.

Instead of going to the Gryffindor Common Room where he would be on the receiving end of some disappointed looks, he went to the Bathing Room and stripped himself of his Quidditch gear. He was pleased to note that he was alone because he certainly wanted to wallow in his self-pity before he let Ron and Hermione cheer him up. He briefly wondered if Ginny was having girl problems. It explained her snippy attitude.

The Gryffindor Bathing Room was not as extravagant as the Prefects Bathroom, but it was polished and pristine and the individual bathtubs were accommodating.

As the bathtub filled with hot, bubbly water; Harry fished out the letter from his soaked pants which were piled text to the tub. He flipped the folded parchment back and forth despite knowing there was nothing written on the outside of it.

A thought popped into his head, and he wondered if the letter had come from Ginny's Quidditch robes when she had run off.

Carefully, he unfolded the letter and took in mind that the rain had smeared some of the ink but was readable, nonetheless.

_Dear Scarlet Haired Princess of the Lion's Den_

* * *

A/N: I know it's a bit short. I'm sorry. I thought I would do a quick update today because I'm going to be without the internet, probably until Monday. But I hope you liked the chapter. I did say that the story would start to venture off into other character troubles. The mess Theo and Draco have started over Hermione is influencing other people's lives, and you will see how much in the chapters to come.

Thank you to all that have read and reviewed. Thank you **lilmisslovely24, amama123, Vaneesa85, and mooray** for your reviews.

To **lilmisslovely24**: Your review made me laugh, and I'm happy you are enjoying the read. As for Dreo...Who knows? And some Hermione and Sirius? Hmm. *strokes chin thoughtfully*

We'll just see won't we. I have the official ending set, (not counting the alternate endings that I may be scooting in at the end).

To **mooray**: I know Luna was a bit OOC last chapter. I can't seem to get her perfect. I might go back and rewrite that small tidbit with her and Blaise to make it more her. I will let everyone know when I have. It won't change the outcome of anything at all, so no worries.

To **Vaneesa85**: You brought up an interesting theory in your review. I suppose we will just have to wait and see.

To **amama123**: Thank you for the review. I can only try to mesh characters together and hope they work. I'm glad you think I do okay at it. :)


	15. Chapter 15

"He's pulling a Wood! He's pulling a Wood!" screamed Neville as he ran into the ambiance of sullenness that was the Gryffindor Common Room. Everyone, with the exception of Ron who was gazing happily at the exposed slivers of the moon from an open window, was downtrodden and gloomy. They all jumped at their fellow mate's outburst and turned their bewildered eyes towards him.

"Does…that excite you, Neville?" asked Dean in a weary tone, and Seamus blanched.

Hermione gasped and covered the ears of a First Year next to her, and Ginny muttered under her breath. "I had no idea."

The Creevey brothers snickered to each other. "What a way to come out."

Pavarti raised an eyebrow in interest, and Lavender busted up in giggles. "Who is?"

"Harry!"

Giggles, sputters, chokes, and guffaws erupted throughout the entire room.

Neville's jaw fell to the floor at the lack of concern for Harry. They were laughing. Well, not all of them. Ginny was sending Neville a dirty look, and Hermione was looking at him like he had tongued Trevor. Seamus and Thomas both had set jaws and were swiveling their heads back and forth in unison.

"Did you not understand me?" Neville inquired helplessly. "Harry's pulling a Wood!"

The laughs and the dirty looks deepened, and he stomped his foot in dismay. "What part of Harry is in the Bathing Room trying to drown himself do you find funny?"

The loud chuffs seized and the dirty looks slackened. A sharp intake of breath from Hermione penetrated through the Gryffindor skulls, and they began to murmur worriedly among themselves. The Seventh Year boys, including Hermione and excluding Ron, dashed out of the Common Room and towards the Male Gryffindor Bathing Room. Ginny stayed behind and refused to submit to her boyfriend's childish, drama queen behavior and scoffed at her departing classmates for taking the situation so seriously. Harry wasn't going to drown himself. He needed a few hours of water logged self-pity. Bloody hell, Harry! It was just a stupid game where you made a stupid mistake that cost you the stupid Snitch.

Ginny tossed a chunk of her ginger tresses with a flick of her wrist and snorted. "I think I will bathe, too, without the drowning myself part."

She stomped up the stairs, passing her brother on the journey to her dormitory. "You're not going to help Harry?"

"Hmm?" noised Ron who tore his gaze away from the pieces of moon, which was being clouded over and hinting at another storm. Ginny made a face in disgust.

"You could do so much better than Parkinson, Ron!" she hissed. "That Pug-Faced Twat is an evil, Slytherin, ice queen. She will break your heart. Break things off now before she really sinks her talons in you. Or worse. I'll tell Mum."

"No need to be nasty, Sis," grumbled Ron. "And Pansy is not evil. Not anymore. She's not an ice queen. She's warm. She's so warm. And she makes the cutest sound when I-"

"Ack!" gagged Ginny and shuddered and sprinted up the stairs away from her sick, sick brother.

* * *

"Harry!"

"…"

"Harry!

"…"

"Harry James Potter, I demand that you wake up this instant!"

SLAP!

GROAN!

"He's waking up," said a voice.

"Is he going to be okay?" asked another.

"Does he always wear his glasses?"

Harry groaned once more and sputtered a bit before blinking his eyes awake. He was on the tile of the Male Gryffindor Bathing Room with all of the boys from his year and Hermione kneeling down around him in a circle.

Yelping, he brought a hand between his legs and was relieved to find a towel preserving some modesty. And then he frowned pensively. He wondered who the one to wrap him up was. Ron was nowhere to be seen, and Ginny wasn't either. The only two people allowed to see him in…such a vulnerable state were them. Not that Ginny permitted herself to such a privilege. Bloody woman wanted to wait until marriage before sharing each other's private bits!

And then he remembered what happened.

"Hermione!" His wet hand shot towards her and gripped the fabric of her shirt.

"What?" she asked carefully. "What's wrong? If this is about the game, Harry, then-"

"No!" he shook his head and swallowed thickly. "No! Not at all! Ginny!"

Hermione blinked a couple of times and flexed a brow. "She was in the Common Room last time I checked."

"She doesn't love me anymore!"

A chorus of snorts and laughs echoed throughout the lavatory. All the Seventh Year boys who had rushed to their leader's aid got up and left except for Neville and Hermione who both stayed by him with confused expressions.

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione. "She loves you. I do admit, though, that she is peeved at you for some reason. I'm sure a day or two of groveling at her feet will suffice."

"She wants to break up with me! It's why she started a fight! She loves someone else. See!"

A drenched square of parchment was thrust into Hermione's sternum. She took the sopped item that looked like it could have been a letter once upon a time. She gingerly unfolded it and was unsurprised to see the ink smeared into unrecognizable scrawls. Furrowing her brow, she was unable to make out any word on the page.

"It's sopped, Harry. I can't read it."

Harry howled and rolled himself over, so his front was pressed into the wet tile.

"She loves him! She wants him! He wants to do nasty things to her, and she's okay with it!"

"Blimey, Harry," said Neville with a sympathetic expression, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't be dragged into one of his episodes, Neville. This is hardly the first time he's pulled such an act. The Ginny Thing is new. Ten points to Harry for originality. Now get up and dry yourself off!"

She swatted him on his towel clad bum and rose to her feet. When he did not budge, she prodded the toe of her shoe into his side and pressed.

"You're going to hurt me, Hermione," whimpered Harry. "But I won't feel it. I feel nothing now that Ginny loves another!"

"Maybe we should just let him be," offered Neville, and Hermione nodded.

"I think that's a good idea. I should probably talk to Ginny anyway and see what the matter is. It's none of my business but…" She left it there and they were both about to exit the loo when they heard the slick sound of someone climbing to their feet on a wet, slippery floor. They turned around and saw a glassy eyed Harry on wobbly legs with his towel threatening to un-tuck itself from security.

Hermione kept her eyes UP!

"I need to write to Sirius!" he exclaimed and rushed passed them, and into the corridor. Hermione and Neville goggled for a brief moment before sprinting after him.

"Harry, wait!" called out Neville.

"You're indecent!" called out Hermione.

They caught up to Harry at the Fat Lady who was clutching her handkerchief and clucking her tongue at the boy who was gripping at his towel to stay in place.

"Mr. Potter, get inside before someone sees you!" she shrilled, not even bothering to ask for the password. Hermione and Neville scrambled in after him and saw him bound up the step towards the Seventh Year Dormitories but stopped short and gripped Ron's shoulders and shook him with a wail. "She doesn't want to ever shag me!"

Harry released him and continued his running up the stairs. Ron called out to him. "Who doesn't?"

"Your sister!" replied Harry while closing the door behind him and vaguely heard a 'good!' come from the other side. He dodged the careful glances of his dorm mates and padded to his desk and prepared parchment, ink, and a quill. Once everything was in order, he sat his towel clad bum in his seat and grabbed the quill with a shaky hand and dipped the quivering attachment into some ink before pressing the tip onto the parchment. A droplet of black liquid fell from the quill and splashed onto the sheet while he was readying his hand to write.

In the middle of the once untouched, parchment was a disgraceful black blob. It mocked him. Taunted him. Stuck its tongue out at him and teased him unmercifully. The blob sang degradingly at him about how imperfect it made the parchment and how Ginny didn't love him anymore.

Numbly, he pressed his left hand on the sheet and scrunched it and crinkled it into something unrecognizable. He tossed the rubbish into the rubbish bin and fished for another spare piece of parchment. He looked at his hand and saw ink smeared over his palm and digits.

Ignore it, he told himself. You can always chop it off later.

Harry pressed the tip of the quill on his fresh sheet of parchment and wrote:

_Dear Sirius,_

_You once told me that I was a lot like my dad, so I took it to heart and fell in love with a witch that had hair the color of ginger. As you know, her name is Ginny Weasley. She is Arthur Weasley's youngest, and I had plans to marry her once she graduated from Hogwarts. That's right! _Had!

_Ginny no longer loves me anymore, Sirius! She has become enthralled with someone else! I stumbled up on a love letter depicting evidence of treacherous debauchery. She's been unfaithful! The harlot! The whore! How could she?! I though she loved me!_

_Sirius, please help me! Make her love me again! I heard from Remus that you had a way with the ladies, and that you helped my dad get my mum. I beg, Godfather, help me! Ginny and I were supposed to have babies together for Prongs' Sake! We were supposed to think of and try all the fascinating ways of conceiving infants._

_Dear Gods, I killed Voldemort! You'd think that'd impress her beyond fidelity!_

_Your Godson, Harry_

Harry folded up the parchment and slipped it into an envelope and shuffled towards the door.

"I think you should dress before Owling your letter, Harry," pointed out Dean.

Harry peered down at the towel encircled around him and sighed reluctantly. "I suppose your right."

He opened his trunk and pulled out his school robe and slipped it on and stuck his bare feet into his loafers and exited the dormitory.

Dodging the stares he received from his House mates, he left the Common Room and wandered down the stairs, into the hallways. He'd have to be quick. Curfew was in twenty minutes. He bounded out of the castle and towards the Owlery and found Hedwig. He slipped the letter around her leg and watched her take flight and soar out into the night sky.

While walking back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, Professor McGonagall greeted him and wished him better luck at the next Quidditch match, disappointment evident on her aging face.

"Thanks, Professor," he muttered and was about walk passed her when she stopped him.

"Mr. Potter, I have to ask you a dire question, and you must be honest with me." She said in a tone of vitality.

"Yes?"

"Are you naked underneath your robes?"

"No."

A soft flopping sound was made after Harry's towel came undone underneath his robes and fell on top of his shoes.

Even when the color drained from McGonagall's face and her eyes followed the sound, Harry kept his eyes on her.

"Professor," he said.

"Yes?" she hesitantly asked.

"I am now."

Deep lines encircled McGonagall's mouth as she pressed her lips together in impossible thinness.

"Potter," her voice rose warningly. "Did you forget your daily afternoon appointment with Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry nervously licked his lips and smacked them loudly and teetered on the balls of his heels with a shy grin. "Maybe."

McGonagall exhaled tiredly and waved her hands at him dismissively. "Go to her now and recieve your capful. You have no idea of half the things you do when you skip your medicine. I shall deduct ten points from Gryffindor. I will have to alert your guardian about you shirking your obligations concerning your…mental health. You do odd things, boy, when you haven't three capfuls a day. Now let's go see Poppy."

* * *

A/N: Hey! Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers.

Thank you to: **writingismagic, Vaneesa85, lilmisslovely24, amama123, and for the reviews.**

To **Vaneesa85**: Hope you liked Harry's reaction to the letter. I tried to make it as funny and horrifying as possible.

To** writingismagic**: I think it's best to say there will not be any Harry competition thrown into the mix. I'll inform to all, Harry will not be competing for Hermione's heart. In my story, he doesn't love her that way. Harry is just acting the way my brothers act when it comes to boys. However, for Ginny liking Blaise, I am comfortable to say at the moment, she does not. It wouldn't do her good anyway. Blaise is very much in like with Luna.

To **amama123**: Always a pleasure to have you aboard my reviewing ship because you make me feel good inside, like I'm doing something right when I'm writing stuff. With the bathtub part, I went back and fixed it, so it wasn't so confusing. It was just supposed to say 'the bathtub', but I'm glad it made you laugh.

To all: Yes, Harry was exaggerating as to what he read in the letter, so I hope there is no confusion. Also I will not be updating until next Friday on the 14th of September. I know, it's terrible! I hate myself, too! The future chapters of **The Art of Distracting** are going under some construction, life is happening, I'm working on my next greatest invention which will officially be called (*rolls eyes* I know) **The Road of Forgiveness**. It will be Dramione, and if you have read **Remember** **the Hate**, you will know how the story will end. *wink, wink* Yeah, I'm pimping my other greatest, okay. Who's going to stop me?

I may be persuaded to update sooner (like in one week exactly) if I get more reviews for **The Art of Distracting**. I know, it's totally bitchy of me, but I 'personality tested' in which Hogwarts House I belong in, and I'm a Slytherin, so I don't feel terrible about making selfish demands. *Smirks crazily, waves goodbye, and blows a kiss before skipping off to do hard things in the adult life*


	16. Chapter 16

"Oh no!" cried Ginny at Hermione. Both girls were in the Female Gryffindor Bathing Room, Hermione having confronted Ginny about the letter and Harry's behavior. "The letter must have slipped out of my pocket."

"So you admit that you are…" Hermione was unsure of how to place her question. She did not want to assume Ginny, her best friend, was cheating on her other best friend nor did she want to accept it.

"I have nothing to admit," Ginny said in agitation, a little perturbed on where Hermione was taking the conversation. "And certainly not along the lines of what you are think and definitely not what Harry is thinking."

With hesitancy, a blush, and a shrug, Ginny continued. "I received a…a…love letter from a secret admirer. This morning at breakfast."

"A love letter?" repeated Hermione with interest and a small smile. "And it didn't say who it was from?"

"No," Ginny shook her head while she bit her lip, trying to contain her grin from emerging. "But it was…"

Hermione raised her brow in inquiry. "It was what?"

"The letter was…very, very suggestive. Kind of…naughty but…passionate. I don't know. I can't describe it. It's not what Harry thought, anyhow. It was someone just saying his feelings…and stuff," panted Ginny with a flush as she tugged on her bathrobe tighter.

Hermione's smile faded and worry began to settle in. "Ginny…"

"I know what you're thinking, and you have nothing to worry about. I'd never cheat on Harry, and I certainly do not have any plans on breaking up with him. It's just…the person who wrote the letter was so…_unlike_ Harry. Harry is sweet and kind and a good kisser and all, but he's not…you know what I mean, right?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "I understand. He doesn't know a lot about girls. He just kind of…guesses what they like and…he's _always _wrong."

Ginny burst into a fit a giggles and Hermione joined in. "I know, but it's kind of cute how he tries."

"I'm still upset at him, though."

"You never told me why?"

"Well, it's just…you and Harry have been friends for a long time: way before I came into the picture. Did…Did he like you at all, you know, before. Because I knew he liked Cho there for a little while and I-"

"Oh, Ginny, you're being ridiculous! Harry doesn't like me nor has he ever."

"He kept checking up on you during the Quidditch game. It cost Gryffindor the Snitch." Ginny folded her arms and huffed in annoyance.

"He was being overprotective. He doesn't fancy me."

Ginny jutted out her bottom lip in a scowling pout. "Fine. But I'm still angry and have the right to be. I can't believe we lost to Slytherin because he was being an utter dolt. I'm giving him the silent treatment until further notice."

After a few minutes of discussing Harry, Hermione left Ginny in the loo and wandered down the corridors towards The Head Dormitories. It was rather late. She checked her Mickey Mouse watch her father gave her before her return to school. A little after curfew.

The portrait of a rather large fellow with a curly white hair and flabby pink cheeks gave her an expectant smile, and she gave him the password in return.

Michael Corner stood in the Common Room with his back to her. He whirled around to greet her with a toothy grin. "Hermione! Some game right! You were with your friends I presume. Cheering them up and all."

Hermione nodded a greeting gesture in return with a small smile and took in the scene. On the small table in front of the sofa, there was a platter of cupcakes.

"Michael," she said curiously. "Why are there cupcakes on the table? Are you having guests?"

"No." Michael shook his head. "I made the cupcakes."

Hermione blinked in surprise and walked over and picked one up and brought it closer to her eyes with inspection.

"The frosting is quite yellow." She surmised, inspecting the cupcake cautiously. "I'm not sure something that yellow should be eaten."

"Well, take the wrappings off," said Michael with quirked lips. Hermione gave him a strange look and gripped the paper with the nails of her thumb and forefinger, pulling the wrapping away from the tiny dessert.

"It's…red," deemed Hermione.

"I made them for you." Michael informed happily. "Red velvet cupcakes with golden frosting. For the game. A little cheering up I thought would do you some good. I'm sorry Gryffindor lost."

"Oh!" she exclaimed in mild surprise. "That was...That was nice of you. You didn't have to. I didn't play in the game, but…Thank you."

"I made them without any magic," claimed Michael and Hermione gave him an astonished expression as her eyes swept over the kitchenette. Indeed, it looked like he had made cupcakes without magical assistance.

It was saddening, but Hermione had never personally met any boy or man that could cook or bake well. She knew there was some out there just like she knew Nargles were out there. Harry claimed that he could kind of cook, but he never displayed that half-talent. Ron simply demanded food and never bothered to ask how it was made or anything. Her father couldn't cook, either. He was actually banned from the kitchen before she was born.

The frosting was quite yellow. Honestly, it was the color of pee. Hermione would have felt better if it was the color of mustard like the Hufflepuff hue.

With a strained smile at an expectant looking Michael, she brought the cupcake to her mouth and sunk her teeth into the moist sponginess. She drew back with the bite in her mouth and chewed.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed in shock. "There's…something-"

"I put a peanut butter chocolate piece in the center. Do you like it?"

Hermione took another bite of her cupcake and nodded with 'mmms.' Michael beamed and dried of his hands and came to stand by her. He nicked a cupcake for himself and unwrapped the treat and tucked in.

Hermione finished cupcake and smiled gratefully at Michael. "That was very polite of you. Thank you."

"Have another," said Michael who gestured to the cupcakes. Hermione debated the idea and licked her lips. They were rather tasty but exuberantly sugary. Her parents would birth a Hungarian Horntail if they saw her eat another one.

But her parents weren't there.

Shyly, she picked up a cupcake and said thank you once more and bid Michael a goodnight. She headed towards her bedroom, and she was about to open the door when…

"Hermione," said Michael in the kitchenette. She turned around inquiringly.

"Yes?"

He looked like he wanted to say something but instead shook his head. "Never mind. Goodnight, Hermione."

After taking a few small licks of the surprisingly exceptional frosting, she set the cupcake on her desk and dressed in her night clothes.

After pulling out her Ancient Runes textbook and situating herself on her bed with her cupcakes, she found that she was having a difficult time concentrating on the pages. And then she remembered she was having difficulties with all of her studying ever since Theodore Nott sat down beside her in Potions on Monday.

Hermione blushed and brought her fingertips to her lips. He had kissed her twice this week, and it was so…

She thought back to when he kissed her in the library on Thursday. The first time, he swooped down nibbled softly and wetly on her bottom lip. And then he pulled away.

At the time, Hermione had no idea what to think or feel when Theodore kissed.

Well…that was a lie. She knew what she was feeling. She felt it all the way down in her toes…and other places. Honestly, the kiss frightened her. What was he playing at? Why was he tormenting her?

And then he kissed her again and picked her up and held her to him so closely, that she could feel the pounding of his heart.

The kiss had been…slippery. Theodore's tongue was everywhere, and Hermione could only just hang there in his arms. She was afraid if she moved her lips to participate, the moment would be ruined.

Hermione blushed heatedly down her neck at remembering the kiss. When he had stopped, a little realization settled in. This was Theodore Nott: son of an ex-Death Eater. Said ex-Death Eater that tried to harm her. The monster's son was kissing her…and she liked it.

She ran away. Not the most brilliant move on her part, and was quite cowardly. But she needed to think. She ran into Malfoy and…

Oh Dear Gods!

Malfoy!

He was…so…effing…irritating!

Hermione balled up her fists and heard and felt a squish in her hand. She frowned at the cupcake remnants mashed in her hand and let out an aggravated sigh. With her wand, she rid her hand of the sticky mess and thought back to Malfoy and his stupid, smug face.

So she ran into Malfoy in the Muggle Literacy Section of all places, and he was reciting Shakespeare. Hermione was unable to pass up the opportunity to snark with him. She was unaware that there would be a price.

That ponce kissed her, too!

He shoved a breath mint into her mouth and lunged forward to connect his lips to hers and…

Hermione closed the Ancient Runes textbook and pushed it aside to curl up into the fetal position with a groan. Malfoy kissed her with a closed mouth unlike Theodore, but every time Malfoy peppered her mouth with a kiss, his wet lips would suction against hers.

It was dirty!

Obscene!

He turned chaste kisses into a naughty, one-sided exchange of passion.

Well, it wasn't entirely one sided, Hermione admitted to herself in the safety of her own room. She could have fought him off harder than she had. However, when he kissed her, it was like all of their heated opposition was burning up inside of her. It was incredible like Theodore's, and she hated it. Malfoy kissing her proved that what he and Theodore had going on was a ruse, and she was the joke of it.

Hermione tucked her knees underneath her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs with flooded eyes. She had really thought Theodore liked her. She knew she shouldn't be sad. He was hardly a crush to her. She had really, really liked Ron for so much longer than Theodore, and Malfoy claimed that there was no game, and that they both fancied her.

Hermione snorted wetly and wiped at her cheeks, thinking that he was truly an imbecile. He and Theo both were. She hoped to think that if this was not a game and both boys were genuine with their feelings, they were not planning on sharing her.

Embarrassment burned her cheeks, and she wiped the last of her tears away. That was quite enough. No more tears. Boo hoo! Two Slytherin boys were out on the prowl to hurt her. Please! She would be more terrified if it were two Hufflepuffs.

Malfoy had kissed her on the cheek and Theodore had on the mouth before the Quidditch game had started. They were driving her mad! She was falling behind in her scheduled studies. The nonsense had to stop!

It was official. Hermione would avoid them at all costs. Game or no game—she was not going to be the Snitch of it.

* * *

"Oy!" yelled Goyle while dragging his feet into the Seventh Year dormitory, popping one last piece of taffy into his mouth. "What a party! Lots of sweets."

"Yeah," nodded Crabbe. "The pudding was good. Reminded me of my grandmum's. Shame Daphne took her clothes of and dumped it all over herself and told all the Seventh Year boys to clean it off of her. I really wanted to have some more, but I shot a _Scourgify_ at her anyway. I don't know why all our mates were so upset about it. I was doing them a favor. They didn't have to clean it up."

Goyle shrugged. "Don't know why they were acting like prats. You were acting like a gentleman. You were assisting a lady. Remember _Lucius Malfoy's Handbook_ with the chapter on being gentlemanly?"

Crabbe bobbed his portly head up and down eagerly. "Yes."

"All our mates were not being gentlemanly at all."

Draco, Theodore, and Blaise followed in behind the two husky boys with conflicted expressions. It was rather nice of Daphne Greengrass to invite the Seventh Year boys to come and 'clean up' the pudding from her naked skin, but they were all kind of taken.

Draco had not been laid since his birthday on the fifth of June. His seventeenth had been a big bash at his parents' chalet in France. Beautiful women with little or no clothing were there just for him. Of course, he couldn't have all of them nor did he want all of them. In fact, he didn't want any of them.

Further into his party, after large consumptions of alcohol, he found a bird with curly brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. Draco knew she was not Hermione and would never be able to compete, but he was drunk enough to pretend.

Or so he thought.

She was giggly and flirty and asked what kind broom he flew. When he tried to have a real conversation with her, albeit drunkenly, and asked if she found Ancient Runes fascinating in the least, she said in heavy French _'that subject was for boring, virginal people._' She then went on to say she loved Divination and informed him of her Horoscope. She claimed that it said she would find love and financial stability in the early days of June.

That was when Draco swallowed an entire glass of Firewhiskey in one gulp and asked her to take her clothes off.

She was pretty and much more tolerable without her skimpy party robes, but she had been used and called Hermione or Granger all night long.

But how he craved for the touch of Granger! It was pretty sad since he hadn't been properly touched by her with the exception of the blow he received in their third year. Yes, he got to kiss her, but she was quite contumacious about it. And he was able to snag a kiss on the cheek earlier, but that was pitiful for what he really desired.

With all honesty, however, Draco simply craved a woman. Granger would be preferable, and if he had her now, he would shag her so incredibly good, she would be waddling at the end of June to except her diploma. Her body would be full from his seed, and she would be ripe for birthing. She'd give him a son, and then after a couple of years, he would want a daughter that was just like her mum. And then another little girl after that. And then another one, and so and so forth.

But Granger was not there, and Draco had needs. Daphne had looked positively edible doused in that pudding and was almost tempted to go knocking on the Seventh Year Girls' Dormitory and inquire if she was up for scratching his itch. Instead, he curled up on his bed and shut the curtains around him.

* * *

Theo had not been laid since Draco's birthday party, and Merlin, he wished for some soft, sweet smelling skin to cuddle up to at night. He wanted Granger so effing badly, it was driving him bonkers. Seeing Daphne three sheets to the wind and willing was enough to take his mind off of his affection for a little while until Crabbe intervened.

At Draco's birthday party, Theo had met a bint with bouncy brown curls and cunning brown eyes. After six shots of Firewhiskey and half a bottle of Ogden's finest, he could pretend it was Granger. The alcohol dulled her whiney, squeaky voice. She chattered like no one could believe. Theo prided himself on being a good listener, but listening to the girl was torture. He did catch bits and pieces. She had a twin sister who was there at the party somewhere, and her favorite subject to study was boys. Apparently, she loved to compare the difference and similarities of males between the ages sixteen and twenty-five, and if he would be so kind to take off his pants, so she could make an analysis.

Being completely sloshed, he had and wondered why he hadn't sooner. The girl had shut up once his trousers and belt hit the floor.

Theodore slid into his bed and pulled the curtains around him. He charmed the curtains to withstand the snores that would come in a few moments and pathetically hugged his pillow, bloody wishing it was Granger instead.

* * *

Blaise frowned at his sullen looking mates. They needed some womanly comfort and fast, and there was no way Granger would put out for them anytime soon and certainly not for both of them. She was definitely the kind of girl that would undoubtedly decline the offer of a threesome. Not that Draco and Theo would share her. Draco especially. The bloke loathed sharing anything.

Blaise came to his bed and found the curtains tightly closed together and licked his lips with anticipation. Carefully, he parted the heavy material and poked his head inside. Luna was curled up and asleep on her side facing away from him with her wild blonde hair spilling across his pillow.

The lights in dormitory dimmed, and Blaise shirked his shirt and trousers and slipped inside his bed behind Lovegood and wrapped his arm around waist while burying his face in her hair. She had a nice, clean, earthy smell. Like a flowerbed after a rainstorm.

She was donned in soft, cotton night attire in a light shade of blue, and when Blaise squirmed closer to her, he heard some crinkling coming from beneath the pillow. He placed his hands underneath it and pulled out a package of sugar quills.

While drifting off to sleep with his nose buried in the slope of Lovegood's shoulder, Blaise pondered with a sleepy smirk that he was in deep shite.

* * *

A/N: Hey, Ya'll! I'm back! And just a little bit early. Couple days, but that's okay. I won't be able to update on Friday like I had planned, so I thought a little present for my readers would be okay. I'm still in the process of cleaning up and writing more for this fic, so I will only be able to update maybe once a week. However, if I get more reviews and requests to update more often, then I will be persuaded to drive myself harder to provide to your demands.

Thanks so much to my reviewers: **Vaneesa85, Dramoniefan, Nessa, mooray, lilmisslovely24, writingismagic, and amama123.**

To** lilmisslovely24**: I know you want Sirius and Hermione to end up together, and I will keep that in mind. Although I will admit, I do not ship them. But I hope you keep reading and see how the story will end. :)

To **mooray**: I foresee interesting things ahead concerning Ginny and the choices she will make in the future. As for Harry, he has a low grade case of Schizophrenia Paranoia and needs capfuls of potion to keep steady-minded. You may remember that Theo has capfuls as well as Pansy. I may or may not elaborate on their mental weaknesses.

To **Vaneesa85**: Concerning as to why Ginny was upset with Harry. In Chapter 14, Harry and Ginny had an argument concerning the Quidditch game and how Gryffindor lost. During the game, Harry's attention was on Hermione because he wanted to keep her safe from Draco and Theo. Doing this made him distracted, and he wasn't able to see nor catch the Snitch. Ginny was jealous of Harry giving Hermione so much attention and thought it was maybe from him liking her. She's also upset because Gryffindor lost the game to Slytherin and blames Harry for it entirely. Hope this answered your question, and I'm glad you are loving the story.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you so much to all that have read and reviewed!

Thank you to: **Vaneesa85, lilmisslovely24, and amama123**.

To **lilmisslovely24**: I'm glad you'll keep reading. That makes me so happy! *beams like it's Christmas* And I forgot to comment on when you read **Remember the Hate**. I'm so glad you liked it!

In this chapter, I hope I don't offend anyone who really, really likes the play _Romeo & Juliet_. I am merely stating my opinion through Draco. I have a feeling he and I see eye to eye on the subject.

I'll try to update again this week, but likely it will be next Monday on the 24th. Review, and I will change my mind. I want to know what my readers are thinking, if they have any questions or concerns. I'm sure there are because I'm concerned that this fic is long and going super slow. Our favorite Slytherins are not making much progress with the leading lady, and for some reason, we are still in September. Christmas seems far away...and it is in this fic. A lot of shite is going to happen between this chapter and the ones to come, so glue yourselves to your brooms because the things you thought were going to happen...well...you will just have to see if they do. Draco and Theo are making a mess and Blaise is contributing. We will see how their plans are going to influence their friendship.

Well, enjoy and I hope this chapter is well-liked and funny! *Waves goodbye*

* * *

On the following Monday in Charms class, Hermione was enclosed by Longbottom and the Weaselette, who was _not_ sitting by Potter. Instead of choosing her usual kiss-arse seat in the front of the classroom, Hermione perched herself between her fellow lion mates causing Draco and Theo to grit their teeth.

In the rest of the classes they shared with Granger, she was blocking herself from them with her friends and fellow Gryffindor peers.

During lunch, Theo received a letter from Sirius Black and tossed it in the rubbish bin as soon as he had the opportunity. He did not need Black's help anymore. Granger may be avoiding him, but she couldn't forever.

He smirked. No, indeed, she could not. This was a brand new week, and last week felt like ages ago. He was going to step up his game and bedazzle her with his charm, brilliance, and presence. He would kiss that sweet mouth again, and she would respond to him with equal vigor. She will love him and fall into his waiting arms by Christmas. He will take her home for the hols and present her to his home and watch with glee as she whips out her wand and _Bombarda _the entire property and start anew. And once N.E.W.T.s are over and graduation night is underway, he will give her his mother's ring. They will run to Wizarding Rome for a quick and intimate matrimony and stay there for the rest of the summer as they reside in a villa with a view where he will get her with child.

Or they could simply move. He and Hermione did not have to live in Britain. They could live anywhere. Somewhere far, far away from Draco.

Theo smiled down into his turkey sandwich. His cheerfulness was cut short though when he forgot one minor detail.

Granger's Muggle parents.

Shiiiiiiiite!

They may not appreciate him whisking their daughter away for an elopement without prior knowledge of the engagement.

Theo scratched his chin and wondered if he had been too hasty in shirking Black's offensive assistance. Because really, how did a Pureblood Slytherin date a Muggle-Born? He had yet to find out. In his Muggle Studies course, Professor Burbage had not touched on that particular topic as of yet. And thinking about it, why would she? The textbook was not going to gloss over such frivolous things. He knew how to properly court a Pureblooded girl. It was best to contact the parents, specifically the father of said girl and belay his intentions, and Theo wondered if Muggles did it that way, as well. If not, then it had to be an act of politeness.

Yes, he could do politeness. Theo would contact Mr. Granger and tell him of his honorable intentions concerning his daughter. True, Theo was not yet in a relationship with Granger, but it was only a matter of time. Once she saw how much he adored her and was getting along with her filthy Muggle parents, her uneasiness and distrust would seize and she would see the real him and not his father.

First things first, Theo needed to send a letter. The problem was he did not have Granger's home address. The only way he could possibly get it without causing too much of a ruckus was to sneak into the Headmaster's office and go through the student files and fetch the information. This arose another stepping block. The Headmaster's office required a password to enter, and only the staff and a handful of students were privy.

* * *

Theo had Ancient Runes with the Ravenclaw Seventh Years. Amongst those Ravenclaws was Coroner.

The Head Effing Boy!

In Ancient Runes, Theo glared at the back of Coroner's head and mentally hurtled a 'ponce!' at him. How did that arsewipe get the position of Head Boy?

Oh, yeah. Because Corner was not a Slytherin, and it was a well-known fact that Slytherins did not get Head position due to Dumbledore. That man loved a good arse kisser. Just look at bleedin' Potter who could get away with murder! And probably has!

Most Slytherins hated Harry Potter. There were some reasons for their hatred, and there was sometimes none but principality. And despite Theodore Nott loathing The Boy Who Lived, it was Coroner who he wanted to destroy.

He wanted to destroy him physically.

He wanted to destroy him mentally.

He wanted to destroy him emotionally.

And he wanted to destroy him academically.

That wanker was number two in the Class of 1998, plaguing Theo's intellectuality. As hard as he tried…as much as he sweat…as excruciating it was spending so much time practically grounding up pages of books and snorting them, Theo was still number three.

At first, he hadn't minded being third best in his class. Number three was a pretty good position, but then came Draco Bloody Malfoy with his Beaver Teeth jinx and hit Granger, and the little prissy just had to go and get them fixed and made all perfect.

Before Granger had that jinx thrown at her, she wasn't terrible looking. Indeed, her eyes had been pretty, and her lips had a nice shape to them. Her hair had been outrageous, but that was okay. She was in her awkward stage like all her fellow classmates; they just hid it better. And she wasn't ugly like Pansy had told that Skeeter woman.

Then the Yule Effing Ball came, and Granger presented herself on the arm of Viktor Krum. That was when Theo developed his crush, and that was how it started. Just a simple crush which had skyrocketed when she had returned their Fifth year.

The summer of 1995 had been kind to Granger most certainly, and the little swot was as uptight and delectable as ever. His crush had turned to lust, and every time she waved that arm in the air like a madwoman flagging down a speeding brooms-man, he had to shift uncomfortably in his seat and pull at the lapels of his robe. He knew she would be the prime choice of becoming Head Girl, so Theo threw himself into his studies with the goal in mind of being Head Boy. Nevertheless, his studying was for naught, and Coroner became Head Boy.

Ancient Runes finished on the hour, and the class vacated the room. Theodore followed behind Coroner, vastly approaching behind him. He stabbed the tip of his wand in the back of his robes and Coroner stiffened, stopping his walking.

"Coroner," said Theo in a blank tone. "You have some information that I require."

Coroner craned his head and looked at Theo with a bewildered expression. "What do you need?"

A broom closet was only a few feet ahead from them, and Theo gestured for him to walk. When they reached the door, Theo pulled it open and tossed the Head Boy inside.

"Ow!"

"Oh!"

"Bloody! Damn! Shite!"

Theo slowly closed the door behind him and looked at the scene before him. Pansy was half-dressed and was lying on her back with Weasley half-laying on her who was also in the state of being underdressed. Next to them was Coroner on his hands and knees groaning in pain.

Weasley wobbled to his feet with a pained groan and shot a look at Corner who had somehow fallen on him and then at the door where Theo was standing. The Gryffindor tossed him a glare.

"Do you mind?" barked Weasley as he pulled his boxers and pants all the way and zipping and buckling everything in place.

"Theo!" exclaimed Pansy from the floor while messaging the pink bump on her head and smoothing down her skirt. "You arse! What do you think you are doing?!"

"What do you think _you are_ doing?!" shouted Coroner next to her. He stood up like he was dizzy and pointed a finger at her and at Weasley. "Copulating on school grounds is an offence of school policy. As Head Boy, I'm deducting fifty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin each. I shall report you to the Headmaster's office immediately where he will extract punishment on the both of you. You may very well be expelled!"

"Slimy, arse-kissing git," muttered Weasley and Theo in unison.

"You will do no such thing!" screeched Pansy while climbing to her feet and placing herself in direct line in front of Coroner.

"Yes. I. Will," smirked Coroner with power hungry delight, straightening his robes and tie.

"No you won't!" countered Pansy haughtily. "Or I will inform the entire student body that you…" she leaned over and whispered into his ear. The self-righteousness and color drained from Coroner's face, and Pansy pulled away with a smirk of her own. "Got it, Coroner? Thought so. C'mon, Ron. Let's go find someplace else to be alone."

Pansy and Weasley brushed passed Theo, leaving the two boys in the broom closet. Shakily, Coroner asked, "Was there something that you needed?"

"Yes," answered Theo. "I need the password to Dumbledore's office."

Coroner shot him an offended look and snorted. "There's no bloody way I'm giving that to you. Why do you need it anyway?"

"None of your business, is it, Coroner?" spat Theo

"It is if you want the password which I'm not giving to you by the way."

A smirk appeared on Theo's face as he bent down and picked up Coroner's satchel that had fallen to the floor while he was thrown into the closet.

"Tell me the password, and I won't light fire to your satchel. I'm sure there are important things dwelling in here, yeah?" taunted Theo and swayed the bag teasingly at Coroner as he painted a deliciously horrified expression on his face at the prospect of his bag being incinerated.

"Please don't!" Coroner begged and Theo chucked darkly.

"I reckon you have all kinds of things in here: textbooks, homework, projects…notes for your N.E.W.T.s. All would be gone with a flick of my wand. I dare say that Professor Snape assigned all his Seventh Year students a twenty-five inch essay pertaining to the human effects of using borbotus pus and the blood of a Norwegian Ridgeback on skin maladies. I believe it was due today, and I believe that you have Potions in…oh…I would say…five minutes. The paper is a fourth of our grade."

"I'll tell," panted Coroner, a nervous sweat erupting on the surface of his skin. "You'll get in trouble."

"And you will still be without your satchel." Theo grinned. "You will still be without your precious educational objects. Really now, Coroner. It's just a little password that I need. No one has to get hurt, and no one but us has to know. I'm not going tell anyone. I need that information for personal use and personal use only. What do you say? Deal?"

Theo swung the bag back and forth tauntingly like a pendulum inside a Grandfather clock, and Coroner let out a pitiful yelp, his eyes moving with the bag and his hands reaching out towards it.

"Three minutes until your Potions class, Coroner. If you don't give me the password in two, I will enflame it."

"I'll deduct points!" squeaked Coroner.

"I think I will just light your bag on fire now," shrugged Theo and pointed his wand at the bag. "_Infla-"_

"Green Lily Pads!" Coroner wheezed out and fell to his knees with surrendering hands in the air. "Green Lily Pads!"

Theo glared at him skeptically, the bag still swinging in his hand. "If I find out you have lied to me…"

"I haven't! Now please!" he gestured to the bag. "Please give it back."

* * *

Draco refrained from bursting into a fit of guffaws when finishing the last page of _The Princess Bride_. It was bloody brilliant. Snarky and sarcastic. Bleedin' hilarious and rightfully so. Romantic but not femininely whimsical. William Goldman was a genius. It was like he took a fairy tale and made it into a joke but was still able to keep the fantastical side intact.

Draco slipped the book into his bag and pulled out _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. _He had read _Midsummers Night's Dream_ and _Romeo and Juliet_. He did not have to read both of them, for Black's request was to simply read one. However, when he finished _Midsummer_ and deemed the play respectable if not a bit idealistic, he sought another. _Romeo and Juliet_, Draco did not like. Though the writing was respectable, he had a difficult time accepting the plot. It was a story of jest, and he could not take it seriously. The play had been about children claiming to love each other and had killed themselves over each other. What a load of shite!

Romeo had been fickle and Juliet had been unfortunate enough to be raised by cuckoos for parents. Those things in themselves had been a tragedy, and because they had been _children,_ they could not see or care for anything above their own naïve arses.

Draco really did try to sympathize. He tried to put himself in Romeo's position. His leading lady of course was Granger. He came from a bigoted Pureblooded family, and Granger was a Mudblood with bigoted friends. One would think that it could very well be a tragically romantic sob story, but it wasn't and would not evolve into that when he won Granger at Christmas.

In Draco's mind, he pretended to be Romeo. At some parts while reading, it was not hard to do so. Draco fancied the idea of marrying Granger one day and kissing her. _Really_ kissing. She would kiss him back because she wanted him because she loved him.

Other parts, however, were hard to conform to. Draco loved Hermione. He really did, but if she died…

Draco sighed and leaned back against his pillow with a stricken expression on his face, unable to bear the thought of Granger's heart stopping and lying motionless inside her chest as the buttery tone of her skin turned an ashen gray. Nott Senior had been too close, and she had been so strong and brave.

Draco decided that he would not die with his Juliet, and that did not mean that he loved Granger any less than Romeo had loved his girl. In fact, Draco loved Granger more than that. He loved her, yes, but regardless of what Hogwarts thought, the world did not revolve around her.

And no, it didn't with Potter either.

With Draco, it sometimes did, but that's beside the point. The point was: Draco would never kill himself or keel over and die if Granger's killed herself or keeled over and died. True, until Christmas, Hermione would be all that Draco would think about and try to attain. But in the general aspects of things, Draco had a lot more going on in his life than the love of his life. For instance, he had friends and he had a family. His father was a pain in the arse, but his mother…

Draco knew he was in deep when the idea of losing Granger hurt as bad as the prospect of losing his mum. He parted the drapes of his bed and reached out for his daily care package on his desk. He smuggled it back inside the safe bounds of his poster bed and opened the box. Inside was a little note in her fancy quill-man ship saying how much she loved him, and she missed her sweet, little, baby angel.

He had his quill and ink ready along with some proverbial chocolate-y goods to get him through his letter for Black. He tossed a chocolate piece into his mouth and began to write. He told him of the book and plays he read and what he thought of them and tossed in some heinous insults about being a Blood Traitor and a ponce and that they needed to keep their letter exchange a secret _or else_... Once finished, he folded the parchment into thirds and slid it into an envelope. He would send it first thing in the morning. He was a bit early with his assignment, for it was not due until Friday. Draco did not want to be concerned with that on Friday. Friday was a special day, and he had big plans for her. Oh yes indeed, did he ever. Friday…was Granger's birthday.


	18. Chapter 18

Staring at the stone gargoyle, Theo simpered with triumph. However, he should yet to bask in glory. He was only half-way, and he needed to be quick with the rest of his plan of sneaking into Dumbledore's office. It was lunchtime, and five minutes had passed since the beginning; therefore, he had twenty-five minutes left. And Theo wouldn't put it passed the Twinkly-Eyed Codger to sporadically decide that he did not want lunch but wanted to hibernate in his office instead.

"Green Lily Pads," Theodore told the gargoyle which leapt aside revealing a staircase. He climbed up it and slipped passed the office doors. Pressing his back against the doors as to not fully enter the Headmaster's office, he pulled out his wand from his robes and cast a _Muffliato_ and an Invisibility Charm on himself. Dumbledore may be out an about, but Theo was not stupid enough to think the office was empty. Indeed, there were portraits of previous Headmaster's on the walls. Knowing that one of them would undoubtedly think it to be odd witnessing drawers opening up by themselves and files being ruffled through, he waved his wand about and cast a Freezing Charm to still the portrait occupants.

Theo slithered fully inside the office and remembered that he had only been inside a couple of times in the past seven years. The last time had been when Dumbledore had belayed him the news of his father's passing. His words had been so careful but genuine despite his father being a complete quacker. Mad Eye Moody, the Auror, had been there with his fake, magical eye rolling around in impatience.

Theo focused his attention on finding Granger's file and ignored everything else around him. He saw the Sorting Hat on a shelf, a sleeping Phoenix on a perch and a hidden nook that looked a great deal like a Pensieve was inside of it.

The drawers on the desk were locked, and Theo casted an _Alohamora _on all of them which luckily worked. He opened all the drawers and _Accio-ed_ Granger's Student File. The scarlet red folder flew out of the top drawer on the right side of the desk and opened itself up on top of the desk. With anticipation, Theo licked his lips and stared down at the giggling photograph of Granger and pulled a white folder out of his bag filled with blank parchment. Flicking his wand, he chanted, "_Effingo omnes notitia_."

Originally, he had only planned to get an eyeful of Granger's home address but really, why stop there?

The copying took all of ten seconds, and Theo hurriedly stuffed the folder back into his bag, closed all the drawers and locked them, tiptoed back to the office doors, and de-Charmed the portraits and himself before exiting the office. He brushed past the stone gargoyle that hopped back into place after his departure and checked his watch.

Excellent.

There was still time for a snack. He made way to the Great Hall where most students were finishing off their lunch. When settling at the Slytherin table and nicking a pear from the fruit the bowl, he noticed that Blaise was nowhere to be seen and Draco was sitting at the opposite end of the table holding a small, dark green box with transfixed eyes. Curiosity peaked within Theo and wondered what was so enchanting inside the box and wondered if it was a present for Granger. Jealousy stabbed at him as did worry. He knew Granger could not be bought with meaningless gifts, but girl's still liked to be treated with nice things. He wondered what he could get her that would beat Draco's gift. Maybe when he had the chance to flip through Granger's file, something would dawn on him. His eyes flickered over to the Gryffindor table where his sweetheart sat next to the She-Weasel. She was dabbing her mouth with her napkin and talking heatedly to her friend which was when Theo discovered that ginger haired witch was without her attachment, known as Harry Effing Potter. In fact, The Boy Who Lived was sitting a few persons down next to Longbottom and the Creevey Brothers looking longingly and wretched at the girl in question.

Despite Blaise being a bloody hypocrite, whatever he had done to cause a rift between the Golden Couple had to have been ingenious.

Weasley was vacant from the Gryffindor table, as well. Theo was only a bit surprised, for who knew the impoverished mustela nivaliscould go without a meal. Furthermore, Pansy was not at the Slytherin table eating her dose of daily bread causing a frown on his face. It was unwise to skip meals while downing tri-capfuls daily of medicated potions.

Finishing off his pear, he swiped another and a cookie and headed towards Potions. Just a corridor away, a hand reached out from a passing hallway and dragged him into it. Startled, he froze as his back hit the stone wall while he came face to face with his Head of House.

"Professor Snape," Theo said with an arched eyebrow and a considerate smile as if the man had not done something that would cause most students' parents to balk and threaten lawsuits.

"Theodore," said Snape, making Theo inwardly say 'shite, not the first full name!' Mr. Nott was how Snape usually addressed him. However, there had been times where the man had called him by his given name, and those times had not ended promisingly.

"Yes, sir?" inquired Theo in a calm and neutral voice. His natural, stoic features were in place, and he was ready to deny and lie.

"You were rather late for lunch," clipped Snape.

His Head of House's words were not a question but required an explanation, nonetheless. However, Theo wondered where this was heading.

"Yes, sir, I was. I had to drop by the Infirmary and acquire my second dosage for the day. Indeed, sir, I am always late for lunch," he carefully explained and was not lie. He did have to fetch his capful. "May I ask what is troubling you, Professor?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Though I applaud your great talent in the arts of dishonesty, Theodore, and wish you could share some of it with your lesser neonates, for they are an embarrassment; I am curious as to why you were _caught_ sneaking out the Headmaster's office."

Theo kept his demeanor cool and collective, not showing the least inkling of dismay by having been discovered. And he was only in the slightest peeved. It was obvious Snape had yet to reveal to the Headmaster a student without permission had been gallivanting about his office. Theo took that information as the man was giving him a chance to explain himself.

Well, if that's the case then…

"I apologize, Professor Snape, but you must be mistaken. I was nowhere near the Headmaster's quarters during lunch. And if I was…" Theo smirked. "You have no proof."

A smirk of his own curled up on Snape's face. "In fact, I do not. Regardless, it is promising more for a professor to claim an event than a student to deny it; I will keep this between us."

"As much as I appreciate the secrecy, Professor, I stand by my word that it was not I," lied Theo, and Snape's smirk deepened even further.

"Of course," said Snape. "I will see you in class."

Theo went to leave but skidded backwards when he felt a tug on his robe. He turned back to Snape who spoke once more. "However…If there seems to be anything out of sort in the Headmaster's office that raises questions or concerns, I cannot help you. After all…" Snape paused with a disapproving glower, "you were _caught_."

* * *

Granger was encased between the Weaselette and Thomas during Potions, safely tucked away from her pursuers. Draco frowned, knowing that she had been avoiding both him and Theo since Monday. Unlike his sort-of-kind-of-mate, though, he was not as affected. He was not supposed to talk to her until Friday. Though Black instructed for Draco to not speak with Granger until permission was granted, he was not going to brush off the opportunity that presented itself as a birthday.

Theo entered the classroom followed by Severus. His sort-of-kind-of-mate sat down next to Pansy and tossed her a pear. Her swollen lips mouthed a 'thank you' as she began nibbling on her fruit, and Draco was assuaged someone was looking out for her. Memories flashed before Draco's eyes of times when Pansy had forgotten to eat while taking her capfuls.

_Shuuuuuuudder!_

He and Blaise were paired off and began brewing their assignment while taking notes. Once finished, Draco sat back on his stool and started writing on a separate piece of parchment than his notes. He may be unable to speak with Granger until Friday, but there were other ways of communicating. He finished his little note and folded it into a crane.

* * *

Hermione was finishing up the last of her notes when a paper crane flew up next to her cheek, the papery beak brushing against her skin, had made a crinkly 'smooch' sound. Frowning, she fingered the crane which fluttered in her hand. Unfolding the flapping paper, she read:

_You look pretty today. I can't wait to kiss you again, and rest assured, My Sweet Girl, I will._

_ -D.M._

_P.S. Your lips taste like sweet almond short cake._

"What does it say?" asked Ginny. "Who's it from?"

"Malfoy," huffed Hermione, her cheeks pinking from the stupid Slytherin's words.

"And?" quirked Ginny's brow. Hermione worried her bottom lip. She had not told Ginny what had occurred in the library last week with Draco nor Theo.

"Well…" Hermione started. "Last week I was in the library, and I ran into Malfoy. He…kissed me," she whispered. Ginny slightly opened her mouth and furrowed her brow like she was confused at what she just heard.

"Malfoy kissed you? So it wasn't just Nott."

It was Hermione's turn to look confused. "Who told you that Nott kissed me?"

Realizing her error, Ginny stumbled over her words. "Uh…well…uh…I just heard, you know. Through the grapevine."

"No one saw!" claimed Hermione. "At least I don't think, and Nott wouldn't have said anything. If he had, it would have been all over the entire school. How did you find out? Who else knows, Ginny Weasley, and you tell me this instant!"

Ginny exhaled with indignation. "Fine. I saw. As did Harry."

"Harry knows!" squeaked Hermione. "And you both saw? Please tell me that was not the reason he was late for Potions that day."

"He is scum, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, folding her arms and sticking out her chin. "His father tried to kill you. His father was a Death Eater. If You Know Who was alive, I bet you anything that Nott and Malfoy would have followed in their fathers' footsteps. You can't tell me that Nott didn't deserve to be slapped around just a little bit. Malfoy especially needs to be."

"It's inexcusable! They are not their fathers…I-I don't think."

"See. You're not even sure, and they're playing mind games with you. Let me see what that note says." Ginny wrenched the creased parchment from Hermione's fingers and read it. Her eyes scanned over the words and snarled. "What a creep! I'm going to hex him after class."

"You're overreacting, but yes, I do believe this is some sort of game. I can handle it though. I'm sure they will tire of it eventually."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "They better. I wish Ron would take a page from your book and ignore Pansy. Guh! Their…I'm not going to say relationship…is an abomination."

Hermione vaguely nodded, uncomfortable with the subject of Ron. It still hurt to think that he was with Pansy. She, Ginny, Harry, and everyone else had hardly even seen him for the past few days.

Sensing her friend's discomfort, Ginny apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry for bringing them up."

Hermione gave her a strained smile and shook her head back and forth. "It's alright. I need to get over it. Maybe I should…" Hermione hesitated, unsure of how to say the word she was looking for. "Date."

A look of surprise formed on Ginny's face. "Really? Like who do you have in mind?"

Hermione shrugged and scoffed. "I don't know. I was just saying, you know. I haven't really dated since Viktor."

"Maybe you should again," suggested Ginny with a wicked gleam in her eye. "You could see each other on the weekends at Hogsmeade. I know he really liked you. I bet he still does. You still write to him, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but I don't know. He was sweet and cute, but there just wasn't that…"

"I understand," said Ginny. "Hey, how about Coroner?"

Hermione smiled before bursting into a fit of giggles. "And he would just love that! All I would have to do is show the least bit of interest. I didn't tell you about the cupcakes. Oh, Gin, I don't know. He's cute and smart, but…"

"Give it a try. I probably would if I wasn't with Harry."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So how is everything with Harry? You haven't talked to him in three days. He's going bonkers! I think he even wrote a letter to Sirius fishing for sympathy."

Ginny snorted. "We just need a little time apart, especially since…"

"Since what?" frowned Hermione.

"Well…I'm tutoring Zabini," she said in a low whisper, and Hermione gaped.

"I had no idea that he needed a tutor, and I had no idea he was inquiring of…well…younger, female Gryffindors for help."

"I'm cautious, as well, but I did kind of say I would if Slytherin could beat Gryffindor at Quidditch. He caught me in my words, and he's not as bad as I thought he was."

"Well, that's good."

"He's worse. He's always chucking ridiculous pickup lines at me and staring at my boobs. He also smells like those French vanilla and cinnamon sugar quills. Expectedly, he wants me to tutor him in private areas. I think he's trying to seduce me, the smarmy git."

"Just ignore him and suffer through. What are you tutoring him in?"

"History of Magic," answered Ginny with a snort. "Seriously, how stupid could he be? I understand Harry's difficulty in the subject, but Zabini _should_ know."

"Do you think he's just pretending so he can…" Hermione hinted with worry.

"Get into my knickers," finished Ginny. "Abso-bloody-lutely."

"I'm sorry. If he becomes too unctuous, we can just notify one or all of your brothers."

"I can take care of myself," sniffed Ginny. "I do admit, watching him be pummeled by all of my brothers does bring a smile to my face. I reckon Charlie would even bring a dragon, and Percy would just talk down to him while asking about Blaise's political connections."

* * *

Sirius arrived back at Grimmauld Place with a pop and instantly collapsed in the Main Room, falling on the worn sofa. He had just gotten back from visiting Andromeda, and Merlin, near Grandmother-hood was making her loony with anticipation. Although, he had to admit that it was nice to spend some time with her again. Since the clearance of his name, their time together had been at a bare minimum.

While lounging on the couch, Pandora flew towards him with his posts. He shuffled through them, a little irritated that the Nott boy had not returned his letter. Harry sent a letter, too. Before opening it, he looked at the rest of the envelopes and saw that the Little Malfoy Git had sent a letter. Sirius opened the letter and was surprised to find that he had finished his assignment and was waiting for his next.

Setting the letter aside, he then opened Harry's who had sent the letter on Sunday. Sirius read it carefully with a frown. Stroking his chin, he wondered if he should have a chat with Arthur and Molly. Or perhaps Harry was overreacting. Teenage angst and mental instability kicking in and all. Of course, Sirius had to consider the fact that he did not know Ginerva Weasley as well as he knew Ron and Hermione. Harry talked about his girlfriend all the time, but Sirius had only seen her a few times.

He went over to his desk and readied some parchment and ink to respond to his letters. Licking the tip of his quill and dabbing it in some black ink, he scrolled across the parchment pieces until all his letters were finished. He then whistled for Pandora and Ezekiel to fetch the parcels.

* * *

A/N: So yeah! I'm updating early because I love you guys and things are coming along nicely for this fic. I also miss being here, so I found a spare moment and used it to update.

Thanks to my reviewers: **Vaneesa85, lilmisslovely24, amama123, RainThestral93, and AmandaMau.**

I hope this chapter was enjoyable and promise in the future, there will be some more Sirius. And Pansy hasn't had enough face time either since she's been busy with Ron, so I've got shoo her into place, as well.

Everyone have a good weekend, and I hope for reviews to keep me going steady with this story. *waves goodbye and skips away to write some more*


	19. Chapter 19

_Name: Hermione Jean Granger_

_DOB: September 19, 1979_

Shite! Granger's birthday was in two days!

Theo gripped the file tightly, remembering the box Draco had during lunch. The bloody wanker knew and had already gotten the sweet, little kitty a present. Dear Gods, what should he get her? Never mind! He would think about it after he read the file. Perhaps the information would help him.

_Educational Institute: Hogwarts for Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Parents: Philip Granger and Jean Granger_

_Home Address: 587 Yorkshire…_

Theo hurriedly wrote down the address at his desk in his dormitory and then folded up the parchment and set it aside. He read through the rest of the file. Bits and pieces of Granger's statement of when she was attacked was in there but nothing remotely helpful to what Granger would like for a birthday present. The file was all one dimensional with a splash of vanilla. Nothing juicy, but he would keep the file on hand anyway. He slid the file into his desk and pulled out a square of parchment.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jean Granger,_

_ I am Theodore…_

Theo stopped his writing before he wrote down his last name thinking it would be a very bad idea. Surely, Granger's parents knew the name of the man that attacked her which happened to be Theodore Nott.

Theo groaned. If he wrote to her parents, he would have to do it under a surname.

What name should he choose?

The dormitory door opened, and Theo turned around to see who had entered.

"Inferior Pucey, what are you doing?" asked Theo the First Year.

Little Pucey licked his lips nervously and chanced another step inside the room. "I'm looking for you and Superior Malfoy. I have the invitations to give post haste for my brother's birthday on the twenty-seventh. Here is yours. I've already found Superior Zabini to give him his. He was with that Blood Traitor Gryffindor with flowing ginger hair. Funny, I could have sworn he was doing nasty things with the Blood Traitor Looney with flowing blonde hair."

Theo smirked. "Who says he can't do both? It's in Lucius Malfoy's Handbook: Chapter Twenty."

Little Pucey's angelic face broke out into an expression of awe before shuffling over to Theo who took the invitation. Indeed, Adrian was turning nineteen. Bloody hell, another birthday to effing worry about!

"Thank you, Inferior. Now get!" forced Theo and watched with a boyish giggle as the young lad ran out the door from whence he came.

Once Little Pucey was out of earshot, Theo set the invitation on the desk and waved his wand over it before saying, "Hey, Pucey."

"Back to last names again are we?" crinkled the letter. The envelope shaped itself into something akin to a mouth as Adrian spoke to him before forming a sort, paper-wrinkled smirk. "Aren't these things brilliant? And I effing told you they would be when we were at the Pumpkin Cottage. I'm telling you…Floo calls are things of the past, mate. All we need is the powder. There will be no need to find a fireplace to stick your big ugly head in when you need to chat with me about how hard it is being a girl.

"And speaking of, I've been spending a wee bit of time out in the Muggle World. Did you know they don't use fireplaces to get places and to contact people?"

Theo's eyes widened in alarm. "You've been in the Muggle World? How did your mum and dad take that?"

"Oh, they don't know. They think I'm at Uni studying business or some rot and trying to find a wife. A load of rubbish if you ask me. I just barely cut my strings from Mum; I don't need to find another puppeteer for ages. "Theo, my good mate, the women in the Muggle World…Holy Shite! Muggle girls are nothing like our dads warned us about. They have the same body parts as witches, inside and out. I think if I were to impregnate one, the moppet may actually look like a human baby. Boggling, I know. Though I have no plans to do so, so never you mind.

"So Muggle chits can't do magic, right. Well, they can do other stuff, and I when I say other stuff, I mean…_other_…stuff."

"I understand," chortled Theo as he wondered if Granger was capable of doing this so called 'other' stuff.

"In fact, I'm in Muggle Amsterdam right now. Bloody Hell, Theo, that's where we're having the party! And let me tell you, it's going to be one hell of a party, and don't bother bringing a date."

"I never bring a date to a Slytherin's party. The host is always supposed to invite or provide enough women for all summoned vipers: Page 147 in Chapter Fourteen of Lucius Malfoy's Handbook."

"The only thing the man was ever good for," snorted Pucey. "Now don't be put off by this. I've invited all the feminine goods of the Slytherin lot, but most of the women that will be at party are going to be Muggle."

Hesitantly, Theo said, "Okay."

"Good. Stew on that for a bit. Get yourself ready for it, and don't be shy. These kinds of Muggle Women, because there are different kinds, don't like that. I have to go now. Taylor has found Draco, and a little Eff Why Eye! The envelope is going to transfigure into a Portkey and activate at 8:00 at night on my birthday. Cheers, mate."

The invitation morphed into a shot glass, and Theo set it upside down and slid it safely into the drawer of his desk. He put the letter to Granger's parents on hiatus and began to think about Granger, Adrian's party, and how long it's been since he had been laid.

The chances of slicing into Granger's undoubtedly sweet and tart, cherry pie before Adrian's party…well…let's just say there were none. And even if she offered. Even if she busted down the dormitory door wearing a Slytherin green, baby doll nightie and tossed herself on Malfoy's bed and begged Theo to impregnate her good and proper, he couldn't do it. He would have to deny her, and then he would turn his wand on himself and shout an Avada because he was such a bleedin' gentlemen when it came to the bint. Gods, give him a slag dressed like a whore with her wand strapped to her garter belt, and he will treat her just like she wanted to be and nothing more.

Feeling guilty about the decision, he made plans to go in search of some lady loving at Adrian's party, and he reckoned Draco would, as well.

* * *

Draco watched as his invitation for Adrian's party transfigured into a shot glass. He was in a secluded spot in the library and was unsure of how Inferior Pucey found him but accepted the invitation and told the little squirt to 'get!'

He and Adrian had a nice chat about the bloke's whereabouts. Muggle Amsterdam is what he said, and the revelation startled Draco and was curious to know all about what his friend had to say.

Draco checked his watched and slipped the shot glass into his robes and gathered his schoolwork into his satchel. He scoured the stacks in search of Granger, knowing the lass would be cooped up and comfy in her haven. She was found writing like a madwoman onto a square of parchment with several books opened and strewn. Her top teeth stabbed into her defenseless bottom lip as she whipped her curly head back and forth from one book to another to her quill and parchment.

Standing behind a shelf, Draco soaked her in. Her hair was down and wild of which he longed to run his hands through before cupping the sides of her head and guiding her lips to his.

Without being able to control himself, he stepped out from the shelf and walked towards her. When Granger noticed the shadow appearing over her notes, she stopped her quill and looked upwards and she saw who had the gall to approach her. Her lips drew back in a snarl and her eyes ignited with delicious flame. Draco licked his lips and pulled the quill out of her hand and tossed it aside. Hermione sucked in an angered breath before shooting upwards to her feet and stabbing him in the chest with her pointer finger.

"Malfoy!" she hissed and Draco smirked but said nothing. He wasn't supposed to talk to her. "Get away from me! I never want you to be in my bubble again! You and Theo both can just…just…just hump each other for all I care!"

Draco laughed at her choice of words and thought she looked endearing as a blush appeared on her cheeks. With a fluid motion, he kicked her chair to the side and pulled her towards him. The jerking motion caused her grunt, and she was pressed tightly to his chest.

"Let go of me, Malfoy! I mean it!" she exclaimed as squirmed in his embrace, and Draco slid one hand through her curly strands. He groaned at their soft springiness and gripped them tightly and brought her towards him. He bent down and pressed his lips firmly to hers. She gasped, and he placed his tongue between her lips to keep them from closing. The tip of his pricked the tip of hers, and he growled with need as he probed the sensitive, wet muscle. A squeak tickled Draco's ears and unsure hands placed themselves on his shoulders. With one hand still in her hair, he gripped the part of her clothing where oxford shirt met skirt. Daringly, his hand slipped underneath and felt the warm expanse of smooth skin.

He was snogging Granger, and she was letting him. That little revelation fueled him, and it was his turn to gasp. He pulled away just slightly and gulped a breath a fresh air.

"Malf-" she had tried, but he was on her again. He pulled at her bottom lip that was already tender from her abuse and sucked it into his mouth, laving the sweet flesh good and wetly.

Carefully, he began to guide her backwards where he pressed her back into the wall next to the table. The hand tracing the draconis constellation on the bare skin of her back between the two dimpled crevices he was curious to see, and then boldly flittered around her waist and on her belly. Feeling comfortable that he had her willing and trapped, Draco's other hand retreaded from her hair and rested on her stomach before gliding upwards and cupping her. A throaty, enclosed squeal vibrated against his lips, and detached them from hers but to only find refuge on the scrumptious patch of skin exposed above her collar.

"Malfoy," he heard her pant and swallow. Draco grunted in response and squeezed her cotton covered bosoms. "You need to stop. You need to stop kissing me. You need to stop touching me. You need to stop coming near me."

Once he knew that he left behind a souvenir for her to show the school that she got claimed by Draco Mother Effing Malfoy, he retracted his lips and teeth from sweet tasting flesh and raised his posture to rest his forehead against hers. His hands were still where he had left them.

"I'm not going to," he husked to her, again breaking Black's rules. "Stop me, Granger. I know you can. You have your wand on you, and I know it. Fend me off. Hex me. C'mon now. If you really want me to stop, then you are going to have to be the one to do it. I'm in too deep with you."

"This is just a game to you; I know it," she croaked and she sniffled. "You and Nott are just playing a game with me."

"No," Draco said firmly. "We're not. We love you."

Granger sniffled again and chuckled but there was hurt decorating it. "Why are you doing this? Why are you two set out to embarrass me? Are you trying to get back at me for…for…what I did to Nott's father? I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! If I could take it back…"

"Never regret what you did to him, Granger," ordered Draco as his hands slipped from underneath her shirt and cupped the sides of his face and made sure he could see her eyes. "He was tosser! A horrible, disgusting monster that _would_ have killed you if you had not been brave or strong or brilliant. He deserved what he got. You must know that you were not the first for him. Theo and I are not out to embarrass you. He…" Draco paused, not wanting to say it again in fear of giving his mate any leeway. "Claims to love you. I know I do."

Draco brushed his lips lingeringly on her forehead and went to his bag where he dropped it by the table. He opened it and dug for what he was looking for. He pulled out a box and walked back over to her.

He handed her the box and she took it with hesitant hands. "I was going to give this to you on Friday. Your birthday. But you have to know, Granger. You have to know that what I feel for you is real. Go on; open it."

With dewy eyes and a sniffle, she flipped the tiny golden latch at the front of the box and opened it. He watched as a million emotions dance across her face as she carefully took out the golden Snitch he caught at the last game.

* * *

A/N: Hey to all. This is going to be short but Ttanks so much to the readers, reviewers, those who follow, and those who mark this fic as a favorite. I hope the chapter was good, and I would like to hear feedback about it if no minds.

I'm sorry for any mistakes. I'm kind of in a hurry, but I think it was descent enough to understand. Hopefully.

Hope everyone has a good week! *waves goodbye*

Read and review!


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor Common Room. She didn't feel like being in her Head Dormitories. She needed some familiar comfort and had placed herself on the couch next to the fireplace not long after abandoning Malfoy in the library for the second time within a five day range. The boy was confusing her as was Theo. Hermione was becoming persuaded that what the two boys felt for her was genuine infatuation. To some girls, that would be flattering, having the attention of two boys. Not to her though. For one thing, one of those boys had bullied her. The other boy, his father had attacked her, and she…well, she killed him.

Another thing was that she wasn't entirely sure if she liked either of them. Malfoy was…Malfoy. Like what she had told him the previous week, he was attractive but there was nothing remotely likeable about him. The prat probably thought himself funny and charming when he was nothing short of atrociously offensive.

But…

Hermione nibbled on her lips and opened the box again of which Malfoy gave her for an early birthday present. With firmly pressed fingers, she picked up the golden Snitch and watched as the wings sprung out and fluttered, the appendages roughly tickling her hand.

She did not like Quidditch and many thought she tolerated the sport but preferred musty old tomes. In truth, she found the activity as exciting as flobberworm mating season. She supported Harry and Ron and was always supportive of their passion for the game because they were in it and was proud of them if Gryffindor won.

Mixed feelings of incredulity and something else…something…gratifying pooled within in her as Hermione brought the tiny ball closer to her vision. The incredulity came from the idea that Malfoy gave her a Snitch for her birthday. A Snitch?! Did Alleydash have a shortage of birthday cards? Was there no more chocolate in the world? Have all the flowers in the UK shriveled up and wilted? Malfoy giving her a Snitch for a present was like that Muggle boy from her neighborhood, who she snogged on those boring, summer days. He had given her a football as a going away present before her fifth year.

Hermione caught her blurry, rounded reflection on the golden sphere, and a tiny, uncontrollable smile stretched her lips when thinking of the gratifying part. True, receiving a Snitch for her birthday was kind of a downer, but as Hermione pondered on it, she had to admit that it was like when Ian Whittaker had given her that Beckham autographed ball. Ian actually had liked her as much as football by giving her a signed one. Malfoy, who had shown nothing but contempt for her in the past six years, had given her something he wasn't even supposed to keep let alone give away. She remembered what he said before the game, promising that he was going to catch the Snitch. He was going to give it to her all along, and he could have simply kept it for himself. Harry would have. Ron, most definitely. And Ginny would snog it, and sleep with it while it rested safely underneath her pillow in the tight grasp of her hand. Malfoy giving the Snitch to her was a gesture of…genuine infatuation. And in the library where he kissed her again.

Heat flared up Hermione's face as she bent over and pressed her hands to her forehead. She had lost her bloody mind! Malfoy's hands had wandered in places that she let no other boy touch, and she didn't stop him! She should have, and she could have. But when he kissed her…

With troubled thoughts, Hermione placed the Snitch back into the box and closed it, her mind drifting off to Theo. He was so sweet, but there was something…dark about him. He was an enigma wrapped up securely in a physically appealing package. He was superiorly more charming than Malfoy and less aggressive, and his kisses were languid, thorough, and slow. Like he wanted to discover every nook and cranny of her mouth with careful consideration, not wanting to leave behind the tiniest bit of space. It was like he was pouring all of his feelings from his tongue and mouth without the frivolous use of words.

And why was she thinking all this? So they liked her. Big deal. Did she even like them back?

Hermione rested her elbow on her lap and cupped her chin with an open hand while she mulled over the question. After a few minutes, she came to her conclusion.

Maybe, but the thing was, she couldn't have them both. She would not have them both because she was not a toy to be shared, and they were not her playthings either. Of course, Malfoy deserved to be tugged and tossed around a bit, but Hermione wasn't going to be the one to take on the task. What she was going to do was continue with her schooling and studies and try to avoid Malfoy and Theo as best as she could. She had her N.E.W.T.s after all to agonize over.

Slipping the box into her satchel, Hermione climbed to her feet and headed towards the entrance, meeting Harry who was coming through.

"Brilliant!" he exclaimed with a relieved but forced smile. "I've been looking for you. I have a favor to ask."

Hermione hesitantly nodded, expectedly wary when one Harry or Ron asked for favors from her. "What do you need?"

"Remember Pucey? He was a Slytherin? A year of ahead of us?" reminded Harry and Hermione slowly nodded her head, wondering why her friend was bringing the graduated Slytherin up.

"I think so. Why?"

"Well, I was in the library," started Harry and Hermione felt a surge of panic shoot through her which quickly passed. If Harry had seen her and Malfoy, there would be no more Malfoy. "I was spying on Ginny, and don't look at me like that! I caught her! And with a Slytherin ponce of all people! She's shagging Zabini!"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione shook her head. "She's tutoring him. She'd never cheat on you."

"Well, it wouldn't be cheating, would it? Since we're not together anymore!" he bellowed in anguish. "Do you know what she told me on Monday before breakfast? She said that we need some time to apart. Apart? Apart?! A-BLEEDIN'- PART?! Why couldn't she just filet me alive right there? It would've hurt less."

"She didn't mean that you two should break up. She meant that you two should spend some time away from each other. You're still together; you're just not…_together_. And please tell me you did not just search me out to bring up a person either of us hardly remember and then spring off on a tangent because you have the same levels of insecurity as a twelve year old girl."

"Why does she need to be away from me? Doesn't she love me anymore? Perhaps my celebrity status is wearing off, and now she's starting to see that I really am, indeed, a mediocre wizard with a badass scar. I'm scrawny, too, and I can't catch a tan to save a unicorn. Zabini is tall, and his skin is rather…" Harry let his words hang, and Hermione quirked a brow and couldn't help quirk her lips with it. Her thoughts had been so solemn and conflicted from Malfoy and Theo. This was nice. It was nice to just chat with Harry. Just the two of them.

"The point is," Harry set himself back on track. "Pucey. Did you know he has a little brother?"

Blinking, Hermione stuttered unsurely. "I think so. He was at the Sorting. Timmy...No...Taylor, right?"

"I think so. He didn't mention his name. He just called himself Young Mr. Pucey in third person and handed me an envelope while I was spying on Ginny and then went over and handed one to Zabini," Harry informed while shoving his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulling out a shot glass, and all expression left Hermione's face.

"Harry," she said gently. "Did you miss your pre-lunch appointment with Madam Pomfrey?"

"No. Why?"

"That is a shot glass, not an envelope."

Harry shot her an impatient look. "Just listen please. Forget that I've already have shown you the Portkey."

"Portkey?!" yelped Hermione

Unalarmed by his friend's uneasiness, Harry continued where he left off. "So Tiny Tim or Taylor hands me this envelope and instructs me to find a private place where I can wave my wand over and say the transifiguration spell. At first I was apprehensive, but I did it, and the envelope elevates like it's a Howler, and I brace myself only to be verbally greeted by Adrian Pucey. It was like…like…the envelope was acting like a telephone. It was brilliant. I had no idea the Magical World had made advancements that far. Did you know?"

Confused as to why Adrian Pucey was contacting Harry, Hermione furrowed her brow and bobbed her head up and down. "I did hear that the Japanese were working on it. I had no idea that it was commodity ready."

"Anyway, he went on to bestow his undying gratitude for offing Voldemort and apologized for being two years too late and invited me to his birthday party on the 27th. This shot glass is a Portkey, and I think I'm going to go."

"Harry," Hermione said with a hint of admonishment. "I don't think that's a good idea. You need to study for your N.E.W.T.s, and it's probably a trap. I bet you will be the only Gryffindor there. It's probably a coup to get you alone and drunk and surrounded by bloodthirsty Slytherins."

"I know," nodded Harry. "But I never get invited to cool parties."

"We have fun parties!" defended Hermione. "Right here in this room whenever we win a game."

"We have vanilla parties, Hermione. Admit it. Our parties are fine, but they're not particularly exciting. Call me crazy, but I've always wanted to know how the Slytherins celebrate. Not the old ones. Sirius told me about how old Slytherins celebrate. I want to know how the young ones have fun."

"Great Gods! Harry James Potter, you dare try to have a conversation with me without taking your capful! I can't believe you! I can't believe you lied to me and said you did!"

"Fine, fine! I didn't okay," Harry squeaked with surrendering hands. "I'm trying to wean myself off the stuff. I was rather addicted last year."

"You're supposed to be, idiot! The apothecary brewed it specifically for that purpose, so you would keep taking it like a good boy! You're not in your right mind when you don't take it."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me," said Harry and Hermione scoffed.

"It's all I do. I'd loath the thought of where you'd be if I didn't worry about you."

Harry smiled a real genuine one. "And that why I want you to come with me. To the party, I mean."

"You want _me_ to go the party with you? Not that I'm giving you permission to go, but why not Ginny?"

"Well since Ginny and I are together but not…" Harry gloomily said.

"You could take Ron with you…that is…if I allowed you to go."

"I hardly ever see him anymore. He's always with Parkinson hiding in some area they think is secluded but not really. In fact, Tiny Tim asked if I knew where she was. I think she's going to be invited, too."

"She may bring Ron then. You will have a friend, Harry," Hermione pointed out.

"Well technically those that are invited are not supposed to bring dates. I asked Pucey why, and he said I needed to check out _Lucius Malfoy's Handbook_ from the library and read chapter fifteen. I thought he was joking," snorted Harry, and then he vigorously shook his head and pulled out a rather thick book from his bag. "But he wasn't. I read the first chapter and second chapter and, Hermione, it's brilliant! When I first began reading, I thought it was specifically designed for a developing neonate to ready himself for life of secrecy, cunningness, and illicit activities. But no, it can apply to the everyday, maturing, teenage boy, too. I'm telling you, Hermione; he may be a slimy, gitty, plonker, but what he wrote," Harry paused with glistening eyes, "is gospel. And I haven't even finished the book yet."

Hermione gave him a perturbed look and took the book from Harry's hand. She began flipping through the pages when she felt nimble, dexterous fingers poke and probe at all of her of her ticklish spots. Squirming underneath the invisible fingers, giggles flowed out of her like a waterfall.

"Oh, Harry!" she laughed clutched at her stomach and wiggled around, trying to get away from the unseen fingers that were digging into all of her sensitive spots. She began hopping up and down when they reached tender arch of her foot. "Make it stop!"

"Cripes! I forgot! Girls can't touch the book. There not allowed. If they do, a Tickling Jinx is cast on them," informed Harry.

"That's so sexist! Remove it," wheezed Hermione. "Remove it this instant, or I'm going to pee!"

"I don't know how!" shouted Harry while he pulled his wand out as Hermione fell to the floor in near-painful guffaws.

"_F-fin-nite I-inc-c-cant-tat-t-t-um_!" Hermione stuttered as tears ran down her cheeks. Harry slapped his hand to his forehead and called himself an idiot before saying the spell while pointing his wand at her.

Hermione felt Tickling Jinx lift and breathed in large gulps of glorious air. She wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of her uniform and laid there on the floor for a few moments before climbing dizzily to her feet.

"That," she pointed to the book discarded on the floor, "is very bad book, Harry James Potter! You will pick that thing up right now and accompany me to the library where we will notify Madam Pince."

"She knows about it and hates it, too. She checked it out for me and had to wear special gloves while handling it."

"Why does she allow it in the library?"

"I think Lucius Malfoy pays her a large sum of money to keep it there. It's the only reason I can think of."

"That's…That's obscene. That's bribery!"

"It's just a book, Hermione, and the Tickling Jinx is not the end of the world."

"I can't believe you're defending Lucius Malfoy!"

"Let's move past this, okay. You're just upset that you can't touch a book because of your gender. I understand, but I did come up here for a reason, and that was to ask you to come with me to Pucey's party. Please, Hermione. Please, please, please."

She glowered at him and his dewy, green eyes and caved. "Fine, you can go, and I will go with you but not because I want to. I'm doing this, so I can be the designated handler of the Portkey back here. Pucey just may _accidently _hand you the wrong one and send you someplace else."

* * *

A/N: And I'm back! Thanks so much much to: amama123, lilmisslovely24, and morbid17.

To amama123: Not to worry. *Whispers of things to come* Theo will have his fair share of Hermione.

Hope everyone has had a good week. I, myself, have been quite busy and am exhausted, but I wanted to update today for my readers and reviewers. You are all so special to me and hope none of you grow impatient with this story. It's coming along, I know, but at a slow pace. But hey, Draco got a little bit of action last chapter, and Theo will soon. There is some progress, but no one said wooing Hermione was going to be easy.

Anway, Read and Review, please, and tell me what y'all think. Have to go now! *skips away to rest for a little bit*


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, favorited, or are following the story.

Thanks to **Vanessa85, amama123, and Mimi the Fabulous**.

To **Mimi the Fabulous**: I'm glad you are not getting impatient. *beams happily* As for the Adrian Pucey's party. It is still quite a few chapters away, but I hope it's good, and I hope you wil like it.

To **amama123**: There will be some Theomione in this chapter. Draco had his stolen kisses, so it's Theo's turn with the leading lady.

Now I present Chapter 21! Read and Review, please! :) I'm sorry for any mistakes.

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," said Ginny over breakfast on Friday morning. Hermione smiled at her friend in gratitude.

"Thank you, Ginny."

"Now are you sure you didn't want a party?" asked Ginny.

"I'm sure. A trip to Hogsmeade with my friends, specifically Honeyduke's, is just fine," explained Hermione after she took a bite of her oatmeal. "Will you be okay with Harry and everything? I know you two are still not talking."

"We'll be fine, and maybe I will start talking to him again today. I miss him, and I know he's been spying on me."

"He has," confirmed Hermione. "He knows that you're tutoring Zabini and was quite vexed about the entire thing. He thought you two had a thing going on."

"We're definitely not, but Zabini keeps trying. I'm not sure why. I'm almost positive that he has a girlfriend. I really think…you know…that he is shagging someone regularly. Or for all I know, he could be slagging it with several girls and is just trying to make me a conquest."

"Have you heard any more from your secret admirer?" grinned Hermione.

Ginny shook her head. "No, and I don't think I want to. The letter caused all sorts of problems between me and Harry as you know."

"I'm sorry," offered Hermione and Ginny waved a dismissive hand.

"It's alright. We'll work it out. Every couple has problems like these. Anyway, do you still want me to sit by you in Charms?"

"Yes, I think that's a good idea."

"Are Malfoy and Theo still bothering you?"

Without verbalizing her discomfort on the subject of the two Slytherins, Hermione gently nodded her head.

"Just hex them already and be done with it," suggested Ginny.

"I'm trying to avoid them, hoping that they will go away."

"How's that working for you?"

Hermione frowned. In truth, she had not spoken to Theo since the Quidditch game, but he was always there within eyesight.

"I think I've almost got them bored with me," she lied.

Ginny was about to say something when an owl flew over her and dropped a letter in front of her plate. "I have a letter."

Hermione nodded and watched as her friend picked the envelope up slipped out the folded parchment and began to read. A bright crimson blush hued Ginny's cheeks, and she said, "It's from him."

"What does it say?" asked Hermione, curious to know the reason of Ginny's flushed face.

"Stuff," her friend vaguely said and refolded the parchment and shoved it into her bag. "Doesn't matter. I love Harry. I'll see you in class."

From across the Great Hall, Blaise smirked as Ginny Weasley stalked out into the corridors with a face matching the color of her hair. He wondered if she liked the letter that he had written her. It had read:..

_Dear Fiery Lion,_

_ Your body is succulent and mine for the taking. I see you every day and wish and refrain from seducing you with my excellent persuasion skills and unearthing all of your hidden treasures. I want you badly. I can only wish that one day you will feel the same way I feel about you, Luscious Kitty._

_ With all my heart and certain parts of my body,_

_ Your Secret Admirer_

Blaise finished off his breakfast and made his way to Charms. On the way there, Lovegood appeared beside him, peculiar glasses and all. With a quick look around, he escorted her to the nearest broom closet which was thankfully unoccupied. He bent down to kiss her, and she stepped away and pulled off her glasses.

"No, no, no. Keep them on," he said in a rush, but Luna took them off anyway and pocketed them in her robes. "I like them on you when I do nasty things to you."

She smiled sadly and made no motion to retrieve her glasses. "I'm sorry, Mr. Zabini."

"For what?" asked Blaise as he reached out caressed her cheek and frowned when she pulled away from him.

"For seducing you. It's not like me, and I shouldn't have. But I liked you, and I thought you could like me."

"I do like you, Luna," countered Blaise who was thrown completely off kilter by her serious, sullen tone.

"I should have known better. Not many people like me, and I'm usually not bothered by it. Ginny Weasley likes me, and she's my friend, but a lot more people like her more. You do, too."

Blaise vastly shook his head. "No, no. You've got it all wrong. I don't like her. She's tutoring me, and that's it."

Another forlorn smile made its way on Luna's face. "Ginny told me that you only asked for her to tutor you was because you wanted to…" Her words stopped there, and she stared down at her sparkly purple shoes peeking out from beneath her school robes. She pulled out her glasses and slipped them back on and stared at him. "You can keep the book. You still have many Wrackspurts clouding your mind, and the book will help. I suggest Chapter 24."

Luna turned away and opened the door and disappeared out into the corridor. When the door swung closed, leaving Blaise by himself, he clenched his teeth together and pounded his fist into the stone wall.

* * *

During the first part of lunch, Theo swung by the Hospital Wing to fetch his capful and was surprised to see Blaise sitting on one of the sick beds while Madam Pomfrey revolved around him with disapproving tsks.

"I'm here for my medicine," announced Theo and Madam Pomfrey spared him a glance before returning her full attention to Blaise who had was having his hand wrapped.

"I'll be with you in just a moment," she said while pinning the wrappings in place and shuffling to her office.

"What happened to you? You weren't in Charms today," said Theo, his gaze flickered to his mate's hand.

"My hand's broken," Blaise blankly said.

"I see that. What happened?"

"I broke it."

"Doing what?"

"None of your damned business!" spat Blaise, causing Theo to blink and raise and intrigued eyebrow.

"I heard that," warned Madam Pomfrey while exiting her office with a tiny cup, shooting Blaise a chastising look. "You should be so lucky that it is not my place to take House points. Here you go, Mr. Nott." She handed Theo the little cup, ignoring Blaise's glare.

Theo swallowed in gulp and handed the empty cup back to Madam Pomfrey who smiled approvingly.

"Off you go," she said. "As you see, I have a toddler who needs to be taken care of. I will see you before dinner."

With throwing one more look at his petulant looking best friend, Theo left the Wing and made his way down the stairs. He passed Pansy on the way down who was going up for her capful with Weasley's side sewn to her own. The Gryffindor was nibbling on her neck, not paying attention to anything than what his mouth was full of. Pansy blushed when she saw Theo and then hesitantly smiled with a playful wink while she passed him up the staircase. He wondered if she would be able to get anything out of Blaise and what happened.

With Blaise gone during Potions, Theo and Draco had no one to separate them. They begrudgingly sat by each other while gazing with heartfelt expression at Granger. Her surroundings were compacted with Gryffindors. Instead of her usual arse-kissing seat in the front, she placed herself in the middle whilst she pointedly kept her eyes on Snape, her potion, and her textbook.

While brewing together a generic type of Blood Replenishing Potion, Draco spoke to Theo in a soft voice. "I kissed Granger on Wednesday."

Theo, who had been stirring the brew, gripped the spoon and licked his teeth roughly. He replied in a soft by obviously perturbed voice. "Did you really?"

"Yes," answered Draco distantly, and Theo wondered why he wasn't cozying up to Granger or doing backflips and rubbing it in everyone's face.

"I kissed her, and I think she liked it," said Draco as he diced up newt legs.

"That's…That's just bleedin' perfect, isn't it, Malfoy?" Theo grit out, his heart sinking low into his stomach.

"I just don't know if she likes me," Draco said like he hadn't heard what his mate said. He dropped the knife and stared at Theo. "But that doesn't mean that she won't ever. I'm not giving up. I just…I just thought you should know."

"I'm not giving up either," affirmed Theo. "It's not nearly Christmas yet."

Draco and Theo stared at each other for a long time before returning to their assignment. When they were done, Snape walked by and tested the liquid with a proud smirk and awarded Slytherin twenty points.

After all the classes had finished up by, Theo had a free hour and used the time to ready himself for a Hogsmeade trip. He had already showered that morning, but he wanted to be clean smelling. He was going to see Granger after all. It took a bit of eavesdropping on conversations and bribing of low-level Gryffindors, but Theo managed to retrieve info that Granger was to be spending the evening in Hogsmeade with Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Ron Weasley may or may not be going.

When Theo entered the Seventh Year dormitory, Blaise was laying on his bed with two half-empty bottles of, what Theo read, Sleeping Draught for Pain and Delicate Healing Potion for Delicate Bones on his neighboring desk. His mate opened his eyes and glared at him.

"How's your hand?" asked Theo while going through his trunk, trying to find his favorite cologne.

Blaise continued to glare at him before eventually speaking in low and gravelly voice. "It hurts."

Theo frowned back at him but with less fury and more confusion. "I'm sorry. Do you want to tell me what's crawled up your arse and died, Zabini?"

Blaise's lips curled into a sneer and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up with the help of his desk chair, the effects of the draught strongly influencing his movement. "You have!"

"I have?"

"Yes!" spat Blaise, his good hand still gripping the chair for support. "You and Draco and this stupid thing you have with Granger, and everyone that you're involving!"

"What is this about?"

"I told you! Everyone that you're involving in this…this ludicrous battle of the fittest you have going with Draco!"

"Is that what it's about? Your involvement in this? And you're trying to put the blame of your foul, PMS-ing mood on me and Draco? You didn't have to do anything, Blaise, and I thought you knew what you're getting into. Bloody Hell, you were practically thrilled to be pulling Ginny Weasley's chain!"

"Because it was for you two! Draco and you! I wouldn't have even bothered if it had been for anyone else, but since you both are my best mates, I did it. I just had no idea that it was going to affect my personal life."

"Your personal life?" snorted Theo. "Is fake seduction taking up all of your time? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Draco and I simply thought that due to being outstanding with real seduction, faking it should be easy!"

"Faking seduction is _ruining_ my time. Time I could be spent doing other things!"

"Then do them. Don't sit there and whine to me because looking down the She-Weasel's blouse isn't good enough! If you're going to be such a little bitch about helping me and Draco, then eff off and good riddance!"

Giving up on finding his cologne, Theo slammed his trunk shut and stalked out of the room with his hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets.

* * *

Theo walked slowly on the way to Hogsmeade, wanting the anger to seep out of him completely way before approaching Granger.

The afternoon was warm with a nice breeze to make the trek bearable. When Theo arrived to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, remembering the First Year Gryffindor he threatened who said Granger and her friends would be at the Three Broomsticks for an early dinner. He entered the establishment and seated himself down at the corner where he had a good frontal view of her lovely face. Undoubtedly, she would eventually see him. All she would have to do is look straight ahead passed Longbottom, who seemed to be the one to replace Weasley, and she would see him.

A few minutes later, Hermione did just that. She looked passed Longbottom and saw him. Color drained from her face before flaring up again with a vengeance. Smirking, Theo raised his glass of butterbeer in a salutation and mouthed Happy Birthday. Expectedly, she quickly tore her eyes away from him and busied herself with friends and the arriving food. He watched her the entire time, his eyes never leaving her.

When the Gryffindor's finished their meals, they exited the establishment, Hermione being the last to leave through the door. She tossed him a tenacious look as if she was saying 'I dare you to try and do something stupid,' and Theo grinned back at her. She was just too precious, and he wondered how he stayed away for so long.

Paying his bill, Theo followed Granger and her friends to the new bookshop across the street from Honeyduke's. The building was new and had two levels and when Theo walked in, he deemed the place respectable. There were books everywhere on the first floor and a spiral staircase that led up to the second level which would mostly likely display more books.

"I'm going to look around," said Granger from across the room to her friends. With scrutiny, he watched her ascend up the staircase. He cast a careful look at her friends who were whispering among themselves on which book they should each pitch in for Granger's birthday present. When he was assured that he would not be seen, he snuck up the stairs and rounded a corner. He found Granger's back to him where she stood by a bookshelf, flipping through a paperback. Without wasting any time, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. She stiffened in his arms before relaxing, her eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

"Mr. Nott," she said in that prissy tone of hers that made Theo smile. "I suggest that you unhand me. It was not in your favor the last time we dwelt in a book establishment together."

"So Potter told you what he did to me?" inquired Theo while he buried his nose into the thin fabric of her polo sweater. He inhaled deeply and fell in love with her all over again.

"No," replied Granger in a quiet voice. "I found out. I do not condone what he did to you. It was wrong, but I cannot help you if it happens again."

"Can't or won't," said Theo and turned her around so she was facing him, the book still open and in her hands. He pulled it from her and closed it, setting it aside. "I have a present for you, Granger."

He pulled out something that was floppy, rectangular, and wrapped in silver wrapping paper. He brought the present underneath her chin, lightly teasing the skin there with the edge of the present.

"Open it," he told her and smirked as she gingerly tore open the corner of the wrapping paper before ripping the entire thing off. "I hope you like it."

Granger's inquisitive brown eyes scanned over the gift, her eyes sparkling more with each letter before letting out a shaky breath of disbelief. "This is one of the first copies of spells and potions that have solely originated from Merlin himself."

"It _is _the first copy," informed Theo with a gleeful grin, and Granger gaped at him and then at the manuscript, her head bobbing back and forth in direction.

"Oh, Theo!" She shook her head violently. "I can't take this! This is…This is…utter madness. How did you even get this?"

"My family library."

"Y-your library? You have a library in your house? And this," she lifted the manuscript, "was in it?"

"Yes."

Owlishly, Granger blinked. "Theo, this is not something you give away. This is something you keep within your family."

"Now you know my intentions," said Theo while bending down and lifting up her satchel which was by her feet. He opened the bag and slid in the manuscript with a smile as she gaped openly at him with numerous amounts of thoughts flying behind her eyes. He set the bag back onto the floor before bringing Granger closer to him and lowering his mouth to hers. He cupped her head just so the better halves of his fingers were set firmly in her hair while his thumbs were free to toy with her earlobes and caress her jawline.

His lips started out innocent, a peck here to her top lip and a peck to her bottom lip. Then he connected their lips fully before detaching them and whispering, "Kiss me back, Granger."

_To be continued..._


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: I'm attaching a warning to this chapter. There is some heavy, nasty snogging up ahead along with wandering hands. I suppose this chapter could be in the M-ish variety. I will let my readers decide, but yes, I am not joking about the nasty snogging. *grins wickedly* You know you perverts love it even when it makes you sick.

Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers and those who have favorited and followed.

Thank you to: **the-clumsy-one, amama123, and Mimi the Fabulous**.

To **Mimi the Fabulous**: I dedicate this chapter to you in favor of your review. *smiles big and hopes you like it*

To **amama123**: The whole story is dedicated to you because you are awesome and loyal and have stuck by me, insanity and all. Plus, you seem to be fond of my Dramione and Theomione cuckoo-ness.

To **the-clumsy-one**: Your chapter dedication will come. I know you love Draco, and he will have his moments of fun just like Theo is having his.

* * *

_His lips started out innocent, a peck here to her top lip and a peck to her bottom lip. Then he connected their lips fully before detaching them and whispering, "Kiss me back, Granger."_

Firmly, Theo pressed his lips to hers once more. Excitement coursed through him as he felt her lips pucker in return, but quickly, she pulled away. "Okay, I've kissed you, so I-"

He cut her off with his lips and took advantage of their open state and swept his tongue passed them. His hands found the sides of her head once more where he was able to keep her firmly in place. As his tongue slipped in and out of her wet, hot mouth, teasing hers with languid swipes, one of his thumbs toyed with her earlobe while the other swept lightly across her jaw.

Merlin, he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. He felt her hands climb up his arms and wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

With need of air, he pulled away from her and smiled down at her. She was not looking at him, but her eyes lingered on his chest like she was afraid of looking up. He leaned down and kissed her forehead while something caught his eye. Further down the hallway passed all the bookshelves, there was some of those Muggle beanbag, lounging seats perched in a half-circle in the corner. With his lips still pressed to Granger's flushed skin, he mouthed into her, "I'm not done with you, yet."

He gripped the crook of her elbow and led her down the hallway before gripping her shoulders and urging her to lie down across the cushiony surface. Confliction flittered across her face, but she did what he wanted her to. When she was comfortably inclined, he knelt down beside her and carefully brushed away some locks of stubborn curls away from her face before lowering himself to kiss her once more. This time, she puckered her lips at the ready, making him chuckle and brush his nose against hers before sealing their lips in another heated kiss. Their mouths brushed wetly against each other, his tongue catching the underside of her lip in a slow, dirty fashion.

Hermione's breath hitched and opened her eyes wide, a sparkle of shyness shining in them as she opened her mouth a little wider and poked out her tongue and pricked the underside of his with it. Theo bristled above her, and he opened his eyes, as well, a little startled at the boldness of the light touch. Recovering quickly, his own tongue caught hers before it retracted back into her mouth. With their lips not touching, he prodded the underside of her tongue with his in return from bottom to top at a leisurely pace. She jolted and squirmed beneath him, and he hurriedly sucked his tongue back into his mouth to wet it before coating hers with some of his saliva.

Again, Theo's nose brushed Hermione's while still keeping his tongue connected to hers. His hands left her hair and wandered downwards to her shoulders and then to her chest and palmed her over her sweater. She shifted beneath him and arched her back. With quick and audacious fingers, Theo's pulled away just slightly while his hands left Granger's treasures and tugged the hem of her polo upwards enough to reveal what he had only dreamt of seeing. Her eyes opened and peered down to where his gaze was, and he slid his hand up the smoothness of her stomach and lightly ran a couple fingertips across a cotton covered bosom. She squeaked and shook her head from side to side, telling him she did not want him to go any further. Theo frowned but did as she wanted and watched in sadness as Granger pulled down her top.

"Did I go too far?" asked Theo, trying and failing to muster up a tone of guilt.

Granger lightly scoffed and met his gaze with an unreadable expression. "Yes."

Theo separated himself from her and climbed to his feet, so she could do the same. "You didn't say no, so I-"

"I'm not saying that you assaulted me, Mr. Nott," she said in formality. "But perhaps I should retreat my words. _You _did not go too far. _We_ went too far, but I must admit that the fault is entirely mine. I should have not let you kiss me."

Hurt settled inside Theo which must have made itself present on the outside because Granger's features softened.

"Please don't look at me like that, Theo," she whispered as she reached out and tugged at hem of shirt in comforting manner, like she was physically trying to say this was not about him. "I'm…I'm confused."

"Confused about what?"

"You know what. About you and Draco."

"Do you…Do you like him?" Theo asked, despair swirling around inside of him at the prospect.

Hermione took a step closer to him, her hand wrapping itself around the bottom of his shirt. "I don't know."

"Do you like me?"

When she didn't answer right away, Theo tried to find that state of neutrality that he used to be so good at in order to hide his disappointment.

"Yes," she eventually answered. "And it would not be fair to you if I let you in when I may have feelings for someone else, too. It's one of the reasons I've been avoiding the both of you."

Theo stared down at her, his fingers finding her chin and tilted head up. "I'm not going to give up, Hermione, and I'm not going to have you avoid me again. Now that I know that there is chance, that my feelings are not just one-sided, I will do whatever it takes to have you."

Hermione paled at his words and shifted on her feet towards the exit, and Theo backpedaled. He shook his head and chanced a step forward and sighed when she took a step back. "That came out way creepier than intended, Granger. Will you forgive me?"

He reached up and lightly brushed her face from cheek bone to jawline, and the apprehension in her eyes and demeanor softened. She even leaned into his touch and nodded her reply. He took a few strides towards her and wrapped his arm around her and pulled into an embrace. He would have liked to rest his chin on her head, but she was far too little, so he settled for tilting it down and burying his nose in her curls while she had her face pressed against his chest with her arms encircling his waist.

"Happy birthday, Granger," he muffled into her hair and smirked when he felt her arms tighten around him. Oh, yes. She was coming along nicely.

"Thank you for the manuscript," she whispered into his shirt and then tilted her head back so their noses were brushing. "But I can't take it."

"You _will_ take it, Granger," Theo ordered gruffly, and she smiled sadly.

"I can't take it _yet_, but someday…someday I might let you give it to me again because right now I'm not ready for it."

Theo knew what she was saying, and it wasn't about the manuscript. He touched her chin with his thumb and forefinger, wanting to kiss her again into submission, hoping that she would change her mind and miraculously fall in love with him right there in the bookstore. Instead, he swallowed and made himself slide on a smirk.

"Then what, pray tell, should I get you for your birthday?"

* * *

Quietly, Granger led Theo down the spiral staircase, each of their steps taken with caution. When they reached the first floor, they both looked around for her friends who could be heard off in the distance, buried in some stack. She smiled shyly back at him as they rushed to the door and scrambled outside where they ran down and across the street to Honeyduke's.

* * *

"Now I have a hard time believing that all you want from me for your birthday is a cake," Theo said

"I rarely ever have cake on my birthday, Theo," said Hermione as they exited the Honeydukes. He was holding a black box with pink ribbon tied over it in a gift-like manner. "And if I do, it's sugar-free."

"Sugar-free?" balked Theo. "I'm sorry, but that sounds revolting."

"I don't mean that there isn't any kind of sweetener in the cake," explained Hermione with a grin at his expression of disgust. "My parents are dentists, meaning they take care of other people's teeth, and too much sugar can cause all kinds of damage. When I'm at home, I rarely get to have sweets that aren't pulverized with artificial sweetener, and let me tell you; I dare say that I would rather eat a chocolate cake without any kind of sweetener for that matter."

"Artificial sweetener?" questioned Theo. "That sounds…disappointing."

Hermione chuckled as they walked towards the edge of Hogsmeade. "It is."

She spotted a bench and beckoned him to sit by her. "So, Theo, I really wanted a real cake for my birthday, but not just any cake." She took the box from him and pulled at the pink ribbon before opening it up cover.

"Coconut cake," said Theo with a grin and pulled out two desert plates and knife and two forks from the paper bag he had been holding.

"Chocolate Cream Filled Confetti Cake," Hermione snootily informed. "And we will not be needing plates or a knife, good sir. I am going to show you how a proper Muggle-Born eats her birthday cake."

Theo laughed and she grabbed a fork from him as he put the plates and knife back into the bag but fished something else out. Before Hermione could stab her fork into the center of the cake, he placed a candle there. She blinked in surprise and smiled warmly at him.

"We must not forget the candle," he politely said and waved his forefinger over the wick to ignite it with flame, wanting to impress her with a little bit of nonverbal, wandless magic.

"Now you have to sing to me," Hermione grinned indulgently, and Theo shook his head with a snort.

"I don't think so. I will only go so far when pleasing a lady, so go ahead and make a wish and blow out the candle. What will you wish for anyway?"

Hermione, who had bent down towards the flame, flicked her eyes up at him. "I can't tell you. It won't come true if I do."

"My mistake."

She closed her eyes and Theo bent down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss before she could open her eyes and blow out the candle. He grinned into her mouth when she responded and reluctantly pulled away.

"We mustn't let this cake get ruined from melted wax just because you can't keep your mouth off of me. It's a perfectly good cake to which I bought you," Theo commented in faux chastisement and earned a twinkle of something akin to mischief emerging in Hermione's eyes. With a cute little smirk of her own, she plucked the candle out of the cake and brought it to her puckering lips and blew a puff of breath to vanquish the flame.

Once setting the candle aside, she instructed him, "Close your eyes this instant, Mr. Nott."

"Why?" asked Theo with a skeptically, arched brow.

"Do as I say or I will deduct points from Slytherin for questioning a student of authority."

"Will you whip me, too?" Theo asked with teasing excitement in his tone causing a blush to creep up Hermione's neck and to her cheeks. Nevertheless, he closed them, and what he did not see was Hermione stabbing two fingers into the middle of the cake and spooning out a good chunk of ooey-gooey, cake. Without hesitation, she zoomed her fingers towards Theo's slightly parted mouth and only half-heartedly attempted to get some of the sweet stuff passed his libs. He reeled back in surprise while his eyelids shot open and tried to lean away from her smearing fingers.

"Get back here!" she demanded playfully through giggles. Completely endeared and a little turned on by her giggles and sweet fingers, he leant towards the sweet digits and wrapped his lips around them, sucking and lapping off the spongy goo. She made a cute, quiet 'eep' sound which only fueled him further by scooping out some cake with his own fingers and shoving them into Granger's open mouth. At first she was nothing if not alarmed but eventually pressed her lips around his fingers and swiped at them with her spry tongue. When both sets of fingers were clean, they were released from each other's mouths. Hermione blushed while wiping at her mouth with the sides of her hands while Theo licked the corners of his as he gripped a fork and cut another chunk out of the middle of the cake, making sure to get deep enough to retrieve some chocolate cream. He nudged the fork and the seam of her mouth as she eyed him cagily before engulfing the cake. He vastly set aside the fork and cupped the back of her head and kissed her. She made a surprised sound, his tongue delving inside and stole a bit of salivated cake from her tongue and keeping it for himself.

Their kissing was not clean nor was it organized or articulate. Their lips and patches of skin around their mouths were increasingly becoming damp, sticky, and crumby. When their shared bites of cake would run out, Theo would hurriedly refill Hermione's mouth with some more. He did this a number of times before she moaned and shook her head in denial.

"No more," she whimpered and closed her eyes. "I feel sick."

Theo rested his forehead against hers, eyeing her messy, swollen mouth with pride. "Oh, kitten, I've overfed you. I'm sorry. Here, let's clean you up."

Theo pulled out some napkins from the Honeyduke's bag and wet them with his wand and wiped at Granger's mouth. He could have simply cast a cleaning spell on her, but this was more intimate. In turn, she took the wetted napkins from him and cleaned his mouth, as well. She tossed them into the bag when she was done and peered down at her half-eaten cake.

"I think that I will save the rest for later," she said and slipped it back into the box.

"We can make use for it again," flirted Theo and Hermione sleepily smiled and shook her head.

"We need to stop kissing each other."

"Why? We're so good at it."

"I told you. It's not fair to you when I may like D-"

Theo leaned forward and brushed her nose with his, his voice quite serious. "What do I have to do, Sweetheart, to make you like me more?"

Hermione shook her head again. "I do like you more, but it still isn't right for me to have you. I think you should know that he kissed me the other day, and I…I didn't push him away. I didn't stop him. This is why I won't let myself have you. I c-can't…decide."

Theo knew of Draco kissing her on Wednesday but hearing Hermione confirm it evoked green, hot jealousy to course in birse within his veins. Primal instinct to show the female that he was a better mate kicked in; he crushed his lips to hers in a possessive kiss. She whimpered against his lips but made no move or indication that she wanted him to stop. Her fingers combed through his hair, and he pulled her towards him and lifted so that her legs dangled on both sides of his hips in a straddle. His teeth abused the already tender and swollen flesh of her mouth while she tried to return the favor as best as she could.

Minutes passed and the sun was disappearing, lowering on the west side of the darkening sky. Since Theo and Hermione's arrival at the bench, no one had walked passed nor bothered them. At least not until an 'ahem' interrupted their rough snogging. Stiffening and pulling away from each other, Theo and Hermione turned towards the sound and was greeted with an intrigued yet peeved looking Lucius Malfoy.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thanks so much to my readers and my reviewers and to my followers and to my favorites.

Thank you to **amama123, the-clumsy-one, guest, and Vaneesa85.**

To **the-clumsy-one**: Thank you for the cookies! :)

To** amama123**: I'm glad you liked last chapter, and we will see what happens in this chapter with Lucius.

* * *

_Minutes passed and the sun was disappearing, lowering on the west side of the darkening sky. Since Theo and Hermione's arrival at the bench, no one had walked passed nor bothered them. At least not until an 'ahem' interrupted their rough snogging. Stiffening and pulling away from each other, Theo and Hermione turned towards the sound and was greeted with an intrigued yet peeved looking Lucius Malfoy._

An incredibly awkward pause enveloped the area between the three people. A light breeze shuffled the tree leaves and branches and the crickets chirping was deafening.

Theo's arms tightened around Hermione when the unexpected arrival of Lucius Malfoy finally soaked in. He wondered what the bloody hell the poncey git was doing there, and a part of him agonized that he might already know. He remembered what the man had said at his father's funeral.

"Mr. Malfoy," finally greeted Theo with evident strain. "What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to Hogsmeade on this fine evening?"

Lucius tilted his head back and slit his eyes. "I was hoping to catch Draco for a spot tea before dinner."

Trying to catch the older wizard in a lie, Theo replied with an arched eyebrow. "I had no idea he had made plans to come to Hogsmeade today."

"Ah," said Lucius with a slight nod like the simple sound was enough of response. He locked his gaze then on Hermione who was pointedly looking at the ground. "Miss Granger, I hope you have had…a very _nice_ birthday,"

Theo abruptly stood up, keeping Granger snug to his side.

"Th-thank you, Mr. Malfoy. How did y-"

"Granger, sweetheart," said Theo lovingly at her, playfully tugging on her chin and kissing her on the forehead. "Why don't you go find your friends? They're probably worried about you."

Just then, Ginny shouting from the distance could be heard, "Hermione, where are you? Harry's hyperventilating!"

Then Harry. "Hermione, I'm hyperventilating! Where are you? I need my capful, and I'm man enough to admit!"

Then Neville. "Trevor!"

"Go," urged Theo. "Take your cake. We'll talk later, okay?"

Hermione tentatively nodded before gathering up her satchel, the cake, and the Honeyduke's bag before departing towards the voices of her friends. When she was out of earshot, Theo let his polite façade drop and openly glowered at Lucius.

"That is no way to look at your superior, Young Mr. Nott," drawled Lucius. "What would your father say? Well, I'd imagine he would say quite a bit considering…"

"How did you know it was her birthday?" asked Theo.

Smirking in nonchalance, the elder answered, "I'm on the Board of Education, young man."

"And your part is to know all the students' birthdays. I highly doubt that. Let us cut the shite, Lucius," Theo spat causing a sneer from the older wizard. "I know why you were here."

"You dare talk to me that way!" hissed Lucius who unsheathed his wand. "I think being without your patriarch has left you undisciplined, boy. Not to worry. When I'm finished with you, you will know your place, and you will know better than to associate yourself with such filth. Of all the Mudbloods in the world, Theodore, you go after your father's murderer?"

"That's what makes her so appealing. She set me free from the dastardly plonker."

"He was your father!" yelled Lucius and pointed his wand at him. "And you will show respect to his name."

Theo stared blankly at the tip of the wand threatening him, appearing on the outside with complete indifference. On the inside, he knew what was coming. Sure, he could whip his own wand out and defend himself, but it would only delay the inevitable for another day. There were codes amongst Pureblood men and boys who were raised in high-class society, and though Theo had broken several of those rules within the past two weeks, he had been caught this time. Furthermore, taking his punishment there would distract Lucius from seeking out Granger which Theo knew that was why the man had shown up. He had known it was Granger's birthday and chanced Apparating to Hogsmeade in hopes of _innocently_ crossing paths with her.

Theo had not forgotten what the man had said at his father's funeral.

"_Crucio!"_ susurrated Lucius, and Theo fell to the ground in agony. Boiling, hot acid was being injected into his veins with rusty needles. He rolled on his stomach, his mouth brushing against a stick. Instinctually, he bit down on it, hearing the cracks from the giving and tasting the dirt on his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut and held on for as long as he could; however, a croaking ribbit and sticky wet tongue pricking at his forehead made his eyes snap open and come face to face with a frog. The frog looked at him with complete unconcern. Its tongue darted out once more and dapped at his forehead.

Theo suffered for a full thirty seconds before Lucius removed the curse. The younger boy coughed and vomited on to the ground all the cake he and Granger had shared. When the nausea subsided, Lucius delivered a Bodily Boxing Hex up on him.

Invisible blows pounded on Theo's flesh and bone. His eyes, nose, mouth, chest, ribs, sides, and stomach were beaten, and Theo could only brace himself silently. It was part of the lesson: you had to keep quiet and take it like a man or the punishment would be more severe and last longer.

Theo's vision became spotty, and his muscles were beginning to lax. The effort to keep silent was getting more difficult. He was about to succumb to the alluring darkness when he heard a "_Stupefy_".

The invisible fists disappeared, and Theo heard a thud. He turned his head to see Lucius on the ground in a heap and above him was Neville Longbottom.

"Longbottom?" slurred Theo and winced as he tried to push himself up onto his hands and knees. The Gryffindor must've sensed his struggle; for he kindly walked over and linked his own arm with the other boy's and helped him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" asked Longbottom, and Theo hacked wetly while leaning some of his weight on to him like a pansy.

"Mfne," mumbled Theo and tried to lean away from him.

"I don't think you are, though. You look really bad," commented Longbottom with evident worry in his voice, and Theo snorted. The boy was such a nice bloke, uncaring that it was a Slytherin that was in need of assistance. Not that Theo was admitting to such things.

"Go find your friends," grimaced Theo. "I'll be okay."

"Speaking of," said Neville with his arm still linked to the other boy's. "Have you seen Trevor? He's my frog. Oh, there he is!" The Gryffindor swooped down and collected his amphibian. "Or how about Hermione? Last time I saw her was in the bookstore. We thought they she may have gotten lost in there because, you know, it's Hermione. But she wasn't in there, and we got worried. It's her birthday, you know?"

"Mmm," noised Theo as Neville guided him away from Lucius stupefied form. "I believe that she is with Weasley and Potter…and we're going the wrong way. School is that way."

"I know a shortcut," piped up Neville. "I'd Apparate to Apparation Grounds, but I'm afraid you'd get splinched. We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible. What do you reckon you'll tell her?"

"The truth," Theo said. "There's nothing she can do about it. You understand, right?"

Theo craned his head to look at the blurry version of Longbottom who solemnly nodded his head. He was a Pureblood after all. He may not be of high-class, but he knew the rules.

"It's none of my business, but may I ask what you did? Just curious is all."

A chuckle which turned into a cough sprung out from Theo as they two boys neared the Shrieking Shack. "Maybe another time, I will divulge you all the dirty details."

Neville guided him into an underground tunnel, and if Theo had not been experiencing crippling, sharp pain from everywhere on his body, he would have been more intrigued. All he could say was, "This is a neat, little passageway. How do you know about it, and not I? I'm a Slytherin, and you're a Gryffindor. I should be aware of all the sneaky places."

"Harry told me about it, but I think you might have a concussion," commented Neville.

"I also need my capful," sniggered Theo. "And you're very nice."

"My gran thought I needed those, but the therapist told her she was wrong."

"Indeed?"

"Yeah. I think she just wanted me to be special. The therapist actually prescribed her the capfuls, and now she has to take them. She's like a completely different person now. I love it."

They walked in silence and came upon a dirt incline leading above ground.

"Be very quiet and still," whispered Neville. "The Whomping Willow is just above us."

"Just bloody perfect. As if I hadn't got enough beatings already," Theo scoffed.

The two boys made their way passed the tree without any ire and started towards the castle. When they entered and passed the Great Hall where students were coming to and fro dining and was on the receiving end of many double takes and stares.

"Should I take you to Professor Snape first?" asked Neville.

"Why don't you burst into song and announce to the entire school that I got my deserving arse whipped?" sneered Theo, who then frowned. "That wasn't very nice of me to say. I need me capful, but no, do not take me to him. Just drop me off at the Wing and go about your merry, jubilant way like all you ruddy Gryffindors do."

While approaching the staircase that lead to the Hospital Wing, Pansy and Weasley were coming off from it. Like earlier, Weasley's face was buried in her neck. She giggled and squirmed and then noticed the two boys.

"Oh my Gods!" she screamed and detached herself from her assignment and rushed towards Theo and cupped his bruised and battered face in her hands. "What happened?!"

"Hey, Pansy," smirked Theo in a lazy grin which fell into a petulant pout. "I hurt all over."

"Oh," she cooed with worry and threw a vicious death glare at Neville. "What did you do, You Near Squib?! What did you do to my boy?! I'll hex you hear and now, Longbottom!"

"Pansy, love," Weasley gently said while coming up behind her and rubbed her shoulders through her school robes. "I think Neville is trying to help him. I think something bad happened."

"Well, obviously something bad happened, Weasley," huffed Pansy, her anger dissipating while the boy soothingly rubbed her upper back and upper arms. She pinned her eyes on Theo. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey. You_ will_ tell me all that happened. Ronald," she said in an authoritative tone.

"Yes, My Sweet," replied Weasley in haste like an eager puppy ready serve his master, or mistress in this case.

"You will assist Theo like Longbottom has been doing up the stairs."

"But I-"

"There will be _no_ arguments, Ronald Bilius Weasley," Pansy interrupted and waited for Ron to let go of her shoulders and shuffle towards the empty side of Theo and grumpily link his arm through the other boy's arm. While ascending the stairs, Pansy demanded, "Tell me what happened, Theodore Andrus Nott."

"Can we not talk about this with the Gryffindors present?" asked Theo.

"If they tell a soul what happened, they will regret it."

"Later, Sweetheart, I promise I'll tell you. Just not now."

Theo gulped down his capful as Madam Pomfrey shooed away Pansy, Longbottom, and Weasley. When she asked who, what, when, where, and why; he informed her that he had been at Hogsmeade and had misbehaved, had been caught, and had been punished.

"This is the third time you've come to see me in the last two weeks, Mr. Nott. It appears that you have been misbehaving quite a bit. I do not condone what those individuals did to you, but I suggest that you take care and think of the consequences before jumping into something that may seem like it comes with a price."

"But sometimes the misbehaving is worth the punishment." Theo cheekily grinned, and Madam Pomfrey shot him a dubious look while orchestrating her wand on him, casting healing spells on his person. She handed him a vial of Sleeping Draught for Pain and told him to take it after dinner when he was ready to go to sleep.

When he left the stairs and walked the empty corridor and turned a corner, he ran into Granger. She sucked in a startled breath but quickly recovered and brought her hands to his face. And, Merlin, she had soft little hands.

"Are you okay? Neville. He said that…" Her sentence hung there, and brown eyes began to glisten.

Theo cursed Neville for being such a bleedin' blabber mouth but let nothing give the impression that he was affected by him or what had happened.

"I'm fine, Granger. See," he gestured to himself. "I'm perfectly intact. Madam Pomfrey knows her shite, and all is good."

"What Lucius Malfoy did to you was wrong!" Hermione hissed while her hands wandered down to his shoulders and gripped them tightly as if to get her point across. He grinned down at her and pulled her to him, bringing her into a hug. It seemed that she needed it more than he did.

"I'm fine," he whispered in her hair. "Really."

"It's illegal!" she bellowed into his chest and perked her head up with tear streaked cheeks. "Isn't it?"

"There are laws and there are _laws_. I'm afraid it is not. If I had been out of school, then, yes, a slap on the wrist would be in Lucius' future."

"That's barbaric! It's practically child abuse! It's-"

Theo silenced her with a kiss, a gentle one. Because how could he explain it? She wouldn't understand nor except certain Wizardry Laws of Britain. And if he told her the truth as to why Lucius Malfoy was actually there at Hogsmeade…Well, who knows what she would do?

He pulled away from her lips, and she resumed. "Wrong. I'm going to bring this to the Min-"

Chuckling, he bent down and kissed her again.

"-istry. How can they condone this? It's mad. It's positv-"

Kiss.

"-ely archaic! In Muggle Britain, it's ille-"

Kiss.

"-gal! And he wasn't even your fath-"

Kiss.

"-er! Assault is what he did"

Kiss.

"I'll present my concept to the Ministry, and they will-"

Kiss.

"…hear me out! We will have words! But perhaps I should study other-"

Kiss.

"Wizardry Law from other countries. Surely, the States would frown upon such heathen-"

Kiss.

"-ry! They are probably more liberal in their laws consi-"

Kiss.

"-dering that there are more Half-Bloods and Muggle-Borns than there are-"

Kiss.

"-Purebloods. Same with Australia It would probably be fun to visit and study their laws. Perhaps I should purchase a Portkey to Sydney or Salem after I graduate. Or maybe-"

Kiss.

"New Orleans! Yes! New Orleans! That would be wonderful! They still teach Old Magic-"

Kiss.

"…in Southern Sorcery Institute. Did you know that the States have three Magical schools for the youth?"

Kiss.

"Salem Academy, Southern Sorcery Institute, and West Coast Academy for the Artistic Witch and Wizard."

Kiss.

"Since there are three, children get to choose which one they would rather study in. There are only a few other countries that have that many."

Kiss.

"Russia."

Kiss.

"Mexico."

Kiss.

"Australia is currently building their third."

Kiss.

"But those are just schools for the youth. But there are loads more of colleges and universities."

Kiss!

"Oh my!"

"Hermione."

"Yes?"

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

"I love you," he admitted while at the same time someone had picked the perfect time to shout the bint's name at the top of his lungs.

"Hermione!"

Theo and Hermione turned to look at the Michael Coroner who was doubled over with his hands resting on his knees, panting like he had just run a marathon.

Theo turned towards Granger who was wearing a worried frown on her face, and he knew she did not hear what he said. He glowered at Coroner for ruining his moment.

"What's wrong, Michael?" asked Hermione while pulling away from Theo.

"We have to go! It's important! You've nearly missed the meeting!"

"Meeting? What meeting?"

The boy gasped and rushed towards her, completely ignoring Theo, and gripped her forearm. "The Prefect meeting, remember?"

"No!" Panic erupted on her face, and Granger ran away from him practically hand in hand with Coroner, leaving Theo behind in the dark, empty corridor.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you to all who have read and reviewed and favored and followed.

Thank you to **Vaneesa85, alannalove1990, TheMargoRothSpiegelman, amama123, and Sand** for the reviews and comments.

Warning: Mention of age/underage drinking and innuendo and slight (slightest of slight- more verbal than anything, but I feel obligated to warn my readers) slash.

I'm not a drinker, so I am basing my writing off of what I've seen at my family getaways and parties.

Please R&R and enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

Halfway to the Head Dormitories, it had dawned upon Hermione that she had abruptly and quite rudely abandoned Theo while he was talking to her She would have to seek him out tomorrow and apologize for her actions, as well as ask what he had said because she had not heard.

Michael led her to the Head Dormitories where the Common Room was dark, causing Hermione to wonder what was going on. Prefect meetings were not held in the Head Common Room, and if there had been one, it would not have been in the dark. In fact...there wasn't a Prefect meeting that night. There had just been one three nights ago.

Hermion tentatively stepped through the threshold and stumbled backwards into Michael when the lights burst on and Neville jumped up from behind the sofa and shouted, "Surprise!"

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Dean, Thomas, the Creevey Brothers, Luna, the Patil Twins, Lavender, and lot of others sprung out from their hidey holes and followed suit of Neville's outburst. Ron tossed a sparkling ball up and hit the ceiling where it shattered. As the shards fell, they transfigured into confetti, catching on the partiers below.

Hermione, who was quite stunned, stood with her mouth agape, completely thwarted by the scene in front of her.

"Oh my…Merlin, you threw me a surprise party?" smiled Hermione while carefully walking farther into the room.

"Well, obviously," snickered Seamus and elbowed Dean who beamed at her while tossing up ball much similar than what Ron had, only this one stuck to the ceiling. He waved his wand, and it was transfigured into a disco ball. The lights dimmed, and Ginny stuck a radio to the wall with her wand and tapped it twice times, and the Weird Sisters blared out of the tiny speakers. The Creevey Brothers went around the room, stilling all the portraits, casting Blinding spells on the occupants, and silencing the entrance.

The party began immediately, and Harry was already doing his Clint Eastwood impression, which no one but Dean understood. Luna was eyeing the fallen confetti warily. Ginny was being hit on by Terry Boot. Ron was swiping treacle tarts and cookies from the snack table while scouring the room like he was looking for someone.

And Pansy was spiking the punch.

Hermione blinked at the revelation that Parkinson was at her party…and was spiking the punch. She must've come with Ron.

Taking the opportunity that had represented itself, Hermione weaved around the partiers towards the punch bowl where Pansy was standing as nonchalant as possible while pouring a large bottle of Firewhiskey into the red liquid below.

Pansy nonchalantly stood next to the punch bowl, smiling serenely at the partiers passing her with a watchful eye, none of them commenting on her hand which was gripping the large, glass bottle and resting it above the punch

"Parkinson," Hermione greeted awkwardly with an equally awkward smile. Pansy smiled like she was enlightened by Hermione's nearness and made no move to stop what she was doing, like she was daring the other girl to do something about it.

"Granger," Pansy greeted back, and Hermione chuckled nervously when seeing that bottle of alcohol was nearing on the empty side of things.

"Uh…Parkinson," Hermione tried, and Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Lighten up, Granger," she said and flicked the last remaining dribbles of Firewhiskey into the bowl. She then turned her wand on the bottle before chucking it at the ceiling where the broken shards scattered about in confetti pieces.

Pansy gripped the ladle and stirred up the spiked punch good and thorough before picking up a cup and pouring some liquid into and handing it to Hermione. The Slytherin would have been a fool to pass up an opportunity presenting itself so perfectly as such.

"Drink," ordered Pansy with a pointed finger, and she poured a cup for herself before knocking into Hermione's. "Cheers and Happy Birthday."

Hermione watched as Pansy downed her cup in one go, and then eyed her own with a frown. She really mustn't. Just then, Pansy stole her cup and brought the rim to Hermione's lips. Without knowing what else to do and not wanting the punch to spill on her face and jumper, Hermione opened her mouth and guzzled the burning liquid until the cup was empty. She coughed and brought a hand to her chest while tears filled her eyes.

"That's awful," stated Hermione with a painful grimace and rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I didn't come over here to drink. I came over here to talk to you."

Pansy arched an eyebrow and smirked while refilling Hermione's cup. "You've seventeen more to go, Granger, and then we can talk."

"I can't drink seventeen more of those! "I refuse!" shrilled Hermione, feeling her stomach churn in protest.

"Are you chicken, Granger? Afraid that everyone will see what a lightweight you are?"

"But I am!"

"Geesh! Don't lie to make yourself look better, Granger. Leave that to the Slytherins," Pansy sarcastically drawled. "Don't fret over tarnishing your perfect, saintly image that you cleave to like a baby clings to their mum? Who really cares? These people are your friends and shouldn't care about that? Besides, half of them are already pissed and showed up that way shockingly. Let yourself have fun. We don't have class tomorrow or the next day. Two glorious days to nurse a hangover and bathe in some Pepper Up. Now c'mon…drink up."

Hermione scowled at Pansy's challenging face before taking her cup back and downing it in one go.

_Sixteen cups later…_

"We can talk now," announced a slightly tipsy Pansy to a thoroughly laggered Granger. They had both conjured up some chairs next to the punch bowl. Hermione was resting her head on her propped elbow and was a breeze away from passing out.

"Okay," mumbled Hermione.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Ron," sighed Hermione and sat back in her chair with a groan.

"What about him?" asked Pansy while sipping at her eighth cup of punch. She wanted to be semi-sober enough to ask legit questions to the other girl.

"Why'd you take him from me?"

Draining her cup, Pansy poured herself some more punch and scanned the group of partiers, looking for the git in question only to find him curled up at her feet.

"Ummmmmm…" hummed Pansy and blinked a few times at the subject of the conversation and shook her head. "Ummmmmm…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. It's okay, though. You can have him. I don't think I want him anymore."

Pansy frowned. "Why don't you want him anymore? Do you think he is not want-able?"

"It's not that. I just…I just…yeah."

"Who do you want now?" asked Pansy. She may have been tipsy, but thrashed was still a cup or two away. She wanted to know which of her friends had the better shot, so she could report.

Hermione shook her head and then quickly stopped the motion and grabbed her forehead. "Don't. Ever. Do. That. Shake your head. Not a good idea."

"I'll keep that in mind. Do you like someone else?"

"Uh…maybe." Hermione smiled lazily like she was looking back at a fond memory. "But what's the plural version of…someone else?"

"You like two guys?"

"Indeed," Hermione said solemnly.

"Who?"

"You have a pretty, fuzzy glow around you."

"Thank you. You do, too."

"I snogged Nott," Hermione burst out before clamped her hands around her mouth and erupted into a fit of giggles. "And then I snogged Malfoy." Giggle! "And then I snogged Malfoy again. And then today…totally tongued Nott like you wouldn't believe. I even let him see and touch the _cousins_. I only let Malfoy touch, though. He will probably get jealous and corner me like he's been doing. He may just tackle me to ground and rut on me like an animal. I want to let him sometimes. He's very cute. But so is Nott. I did let him rut but only just a bit. And then Malfoy's dad had to show up and…"

"Granger," Pansy interrupted with a light hack. "What did you say?'

"I asked if you wanted to take this somewhere quieter, so we could be alone. The glow you are sporting is quite lovely."

"You're glow is lovely, too."

"My room is just over there. I can show you my Snow White bed sheets. You look a lot like her, but I have to admit, your personality is more Wicked Queen material. It's kinky."

A flattered smile stretched across Pansy's face before she peered down into her drink. The smile slipped away and was replaced with a quizzical frown when she eyed the half-empty punch bowl. The punch had been red when they had started drinking it and now it was purple. How long had it been purple? What was added to make it purple? It certainly tasted the same as the red.

Oh, dear.

"Granger," Pansy said while setting her cup down.

"Hmm?"

"We have a problem."

"Come to my room, and we'll fix it."

"Okay." Pansy stood up, and Hermione tried, causing the Slytherin to snap out of again.

"Wait, no!" exclaimed Pansy while messaging her head. "This is the problem. Someone spiked the punch!"

"You did."

"No, no! After I did, someone must have come along and poured Lust Potion in the punch, and neither of us noticed. It's why it's purple. It's why we want to…you know…with each other. It makes you want to do…stuff with...people." Pansy blushed and fumbled with a stray piece of hair coming out of her clip, avoiding eye contact with Hermione.

"Oh. Who did it?"

"I don't know. I wasn't paying any attention," admitted Pansy with a frown of her own. She looked around the room for plausible candidates. It may have been Ron, but he wasn't brilliant enough to pull something so sneaky without her and Granger noticing.

"Maybe Coroner," mumbled Pansy as she eyed the Head Boy with consideration. He was across the Head Common Room chatting with Luna. "I think he fancies you. Maybe he slipped some love juice in to get you to do naughty things with him."

"Well, he failed if he did. I don't want to do naughty things with him. You would suffice, but honestly, I wouldn't mind a little of Nott and Malfoy. They're very good kissers."

Ignoring Hermione, Pansy continued to scan the room in search of the perpetrator. She knew once she saw the person who did it, she would know. Her Slytherin instincts would kick in and tell her who the enemy was.

And then she saw him.

Pansy narrowed her eyes, zeroing her vision on him. He was posing for his older brother while hanging from the bannister not terribly far from Hermione's bedroom.

"Little Creevey," she seethed.

"Hmm?" noised Hermione

"Little Creevey was the one who spiked the punch!" Pansy got up to charge over there, but Hermione stopped her with a tug on the arm.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Don't bother. It's late, and I think the party is over. I'll deal with Little Creevey tomorrow."

"You'll forget tomorrow."

"I don't forget things."

"You will this."

"Well, if you really want to, I guess you can go over and hex him in front of all of his friends, who I'm sure, will do nothing but watch a Slytherin attack one of their own."

Pansy sucked in a sharp breath and forcefully pressed the tip of her forefinger in the gap between her perfectly plucked eyebrows and then exhaled. "What?"

"You can hex him."

Picking up her empty cup, Pansy filled it to the brim with more punch and guzzled it down in a few short gulps and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hex who? Hmm? What are you saying?"


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: So I've been trying to get back into the habit of submitting my chapters on Mondays and Fridays in the morning. Hopefully, I can keep it up.

Thank you so much to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who favorited my storiy.

Thank you to: **alannalove1990, TheMargoRothSpiegelman, and amama123** for the reviews. I appreciate the comments. *Grins happily in all directions*

A little warning: Do not be put off by what happens towards the end of the chapter. I truly believe if Draco Malfoy was a real person, he would act this way. Alas, this is my opinion.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter! R&R and tell me how you believe Draco would act if he were a real person. *wink, wink*

* * *

_Two Hours Before the Party…_

Draco wondered if Granger was having a good birthday. He had plans to whisk her off for an afternoon stroll around the grounds which would be followed by a private dinner for two at the Astronomy Tower where he would tell her how fetching she would look by his side and then he would snog her stubborn self into submission. Problem was, Granger could not to be found. He searched high and low, asking anyone of her whereabouts: alive, dead, or painted. A few minutes before dinner time, he cornered Little Jordan from Gryffindor, and he sure put up a brave front. A little persuasion and pummeling here and there, Draco was gifted the news that Granger was spending her birthday in Hogsmeade with Potter, She-Weasel and Longbottom. He had cursed himself for being so stupid and not thinking of her bloody friends, so he sat at the Slytherin table and more than just a little gloom. He poked at his grilled chicken and crossed exes in the mashed potatoes with a fork, every now and then throwing hopeful glances at the Gryffindor table.

About halfway through the dinner, Granger and her friends arrived at their table. She chatted with her other fellow lions and did not eat, most likely feasting in Hogsmeade prior. His eyes soaked in the vision of her mussed, bouncy curls as she whipped her head back and forth like she was looking for someone. He saw her lips move and ask around where Neville was. That was when Draco noticed her lips.

Swollen. Much like they had been that one time in the library after Theo…

It was Draco's turn to whip his head back and forth in search of his sort-of-kind-of mate. He saw Blaise scowling into his dinner plate but no Theo.

Apoplexy and jaundiced emotions swirled dangerously inside him as he abruptly stood up from his table and made way over to the Gryffindor table. He would just have to show that swotty, little minx to whom she belonged to, and it wasn't Theodore Bloody Nott.

He was a meter away from the table when Longbottom cut in front of him quite rudely. Glaring at the boy, Draco watched as he swiveled through the maze of hungry Gryffindors and to Hermione and the She-Weasel. Draco was unsure of what Longbottom had said to the girls, but Hermione gasped and brought her palms to her mouth while angry tears filled her eyes.

Draco made a note to kill Longbottom before Christmas for bringing tears to the Sweet Princess of Hogwarts. Granger bolted from the table and made way towards the Great Hall entrance where he was not terribly far from. When she saw him, he gave her a concerned expression which caused her frown to deepen and her pace to quicken. And before he could shout, 'this is going to be shite!', she was in front of him screaming while choking on tears.

"Did you know? Did you set this up? Was this a plan? How could you? Theo's your friend! So what if he likes me, too! That doesn't mean you can just-"

"Hey, hey, hey!" His own voice rising, utterly befuddled as to why and what the bint was accusing him of. "What's wrong, love?"

She was sniffling, and then she let out a choke before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest while she wept into his school robes. His arms encircled around her, and he guided her out of the Great Hall and into a secluded corner, more than a bit stunned at her actions. He petted at her curls, smoothing down only to watch with fascination and endearment as the stubborn strands fluffed back up with more austereness than before. They were much like their owner in that way. Try to smooth down Granger and she will spring up with more intensity and vibrancy.

Once her loud sobs subsided into sniffles and whimpers, Draco bent his head down and muffled into her hair, "Do you want to tell me what is upsetting you, Darling? How can I fix this, my sweet Mu-…my sweet…Muggle-Born witch who is usually so feisty and resilient?"

Close call there.

Granger shifted in his arms and tilted her head back and pinned him with red-rimmed eyes. One last, lone tear slipped from one of them, and he could not resist brushing his lips against her forehead before cupping her face and kissing her. Her lips were wet, salty, and soft with just most distant taste of sweet like she had slurped some coconut glaze just an hour before.

She was the first one to pull away and when she did, she stuck her eyes downward like she was contemplating the distance between their torsos.

"That was not what I came to see you about," she said quietly. "W-we can't kiss anymore, okay? But that's not what I need to talk to you about, either."

Draco would have been downtrodden if Hermione had been believable in her words, so he smirked and asked, "Okay. So what did you need to talk to me about? Something about Theo?"

She flicked her gaze up at him again and swallowed. "I was in Hogsmeade earlier, and I ran into Theo." She paused, and Draco bit his lip from sneering at the prospect of Theo and Granger _accidently_ running into each other. Somehow his mate got ahold of her birthday plans and made personal usage of them. Wasn't that just bleeding beautiful and shiny?!

"Go on," urged Draco.

"We…went on a walk," Granger said and Draco could tell she was leaving parts out. "And we found a bench on the outskirts of the village where we…talked."

"Talked," repeated Draco and Hermione shyly looked away from his face with a blush. "As in…Is that why we can't kiss anymore because-"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Theo and I aren't…But that's not why I need to talk to you. While Theo and I were…talking, y-your dad appeared and-"

"My father?" questioned Draco, his voice full of apprehension. A million and one other questions popped up into his mind, but only one screeched the loudest. "Are you okay?"

Hermione gave him a blank stare. "Yes. _I_ am fine. Theo on the other hand…"

Things were coming into place, and realization dawned on Draco. He closed his eyes and exhaled, troubled by what he knew must have happened.

"Neville found him and stopped your father from doing anymore damage and brought Theo back here to the Hospital Wing."

"He shouldn't have done that," whispered Draco. "Longbottom should have known-"

"Neville is a Gryffindor!" Hermione bellowed. "Maybe you Slytherins turn your backs when-"

"It's not strictly for Slytherins, Granger. If your precious Weasley had been born of privilege-"

"Name one high-class, Pureblood family or group that has not descended from Slytherin that still uses that law!"

Draco opened his mouth and then closed it. He honestly could not think of one, so, instead, he asked. "Is Theo okay?"

"I don't know." She stepped away from him and folded her arms. "I was going to go check. Do you want to come with?"

Draco shook his head, knowing that Theo would not appreciate his presence at the moment. He would have to wait until the bloke decided to retire to the Slytherin Quarters for the evening. However, the second loudest question was bouncing around in his skull now that the first had been released.

"What was my father doing there?"

Hermione scrunched up her face like she was unsure how to answer because she was insecure about the answer. Finally, she replied. "He said that he was hoping to catch you, so that you could two could have tea. I didn't know you were in Hogsmeade, too."

"I wasn't," Draco commented dryly, fear plaguing through him. He knew why his father was there. Damn that old codger and his barmy eulogy for Nott Senior!

Though Draco was insanely jealous of Theo for getting to spend time with Granger on her birthday and getting to kiss her, he was grateful the bloke had been there to protect her, to distract his father from harming her.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't go Hogsmeade again, okay." Draco gave her a departing kiss before walking off towards the dungeons. Once in the dormitory, he gathered his toiletries and ventured to the Male Slytherin Lavatories where he showered and readied himself for the night. It was still quite early. Not nearly nine o' clock, and it was a Friday. He could find a witch to satiate his thirst for some rabid shagging Granger had placed there with her sweet and salty kisses and sad, dewy eyes. He groaned at the image of her in a Slytherin green nightie laying in front of the fire in his Common Room with her wild hair splayed out across the rug beneath her. She would beckon him with a grin and demand he get her with child immediately and he damned well better do it right!

Alas, when he entered the Slytherin Common Room, she was not there. No one was actually which goes to show he was an absolute clot.

He padded to his dormitory and put back his toiletries before going to his desk and flipping open his N.E.W.T. level Defense against the Dark Arts textbook, trying to keep his mind off of Granger's sexiness and hoped that she had not gone off to literally lick Theo's wounds for him.

While reading the chapter on the Patronus Charm, he wondered if his father could produce one and then snorted. Not bloody likely. According to the textbook, a dark wizard could not perform one and regardless of how much whipped cream, powdered sugar, and sprinkles one could sprinkle on Lucius, he was one of the Dark Lord's most faithful back in the day.

His mother could produce a Patronus, but Draco had never seen it, and she never talked about it. She had told him she had learned the charm in Uni but the occasion never arose to use it. At a young age, he had asked her what she thought of when she produced one because a happy memory was a key factor. She had smiled and kissed him on the forehead and told him that the memory would be different if she needed her Protonus now, not really answering his question.

Draco gripped his wand and looked at it meaningfully. It was not required to produce a Patronus to pass N.E.W.T.s, for the charm was difficult magic to accomplish. However, if one could produce the charm, it looked mighty impressive on Uni apps.

A happy memory.

Draco closed his eyes and thought of his sixth birthday party. He had broken both his arms two weeks prior by falling off his father's broom of which he nicked, and the Healers were letting them heal the natural way due to being in the middle of a growth spurt, his bones being temperamental.

He was sitting at the head of the table on his mother's lap in front of a tri-layer birthday cake. His friends were there, and they were all singing 'Happy Birthday' to him.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" incanted Draco with a severe pointing of his wand at the stack of _Play Wizard_ magazines at the top of his desk. The cute, underdressed blonde on the cover gave him a challenging arch of her eyebrow and smirked. Nothing came from the tip and wasn't entirely disheartened. It was nearly impossible to produce a Patronus on the first try. He attempted again with the same memory a few times before changing it several times to all which resulted in nothing.

Wiping away the sweat beading up on his brow, he changed tactics. Pushing away pleasant childhood memories, he thought of ones more recent.

Like Granger.

Licking his lips, he remembered kissing her for the first time. With a determined smile, he yelled out the charm and knew this was it. He closed his eyes and waited for the powerful energy to erupt from his wand.

And waited.

And waited.

Any second now.

He peeked out one eye and furrowed his brow at the plain tip of his hawthorn. He brought his wand closer and examined the wood carefully. Was it broken? Was there a crack in it? Why hadn't a Patronus erupted from his wand when he thought of kissing Granger? It was one of his favorite memories.

"Draco," a voice came from the dormitory entrance. He tore his scrutiny away from his wand and stared at Astoria Greengrass who was poking her head through the open door.

"Yes?"

Astoria swept her eyes around the room and then focused back on him with a grin. "There's a spider on my bed, and I can't get it off. It keeps dodging my hexes. Will you take care of it for me, please?" She pouted and bounced on her toes. "I don't want it to lay eggs."

"Of course," nodded Draco. "Anything I can do to help out a damsel in distress. How big is the spider, though? I don't want it to eat me. I'm quite edible you know."

Astoria giggled and led him to her empty dormitory. He looked around with contemplation while following her to the bed which was like all the rest in the room: white sheets and silver bedding. His eyes lingered from headboard to the base and frowned.

Where was the spider?

Determined hands pushed at the middle of his back and he fell onto the mattress with a yelp. He lifted himself up on his arms but fell back down when 105 pounds of girl fell on top of him.

"Astoria," muffled Draco into the sheets. "What are you doing?"

"You," she stated while the curtains around her bed shut. She maneuvered off of him, and Draco scrambled into a sitting position to face her.

"Astoria," he warned with his wand pointed at her. She looked at him and then his wand and chortled.

"Are you going to hex me? Really? You came here with me willingly, remember?"

"I came to help you with a spider," sputtered Draco and leaned away from her as she crawled towards him predatorily.

"That's the new taboo phrase for the sixth and seventh years, Draco," she informed astutely.

"Then why do you have it?" asked Draco. Astoria was a Fifth Year.

She ignored his question and continued, "But if that's too difficult to capture then I will be blunt. Sleep with me."

"Gyuh…" Draco noised. He was now lying down, his head propped up by the pillow, and Astoria was straddling him.

"You're just too cute."

"This is a very bad idea that you have thought up, Astoria. I can't sleep with you."

"Why? You're not seeing anybody…are you?"

"Well…"

"If you had been and you were serious, you would have said yes. You're not so…" She brought her fingers to the top button of her oxford button up.

"Don't!" beseeched Draco.

Pop, went the first button.

"Astoria, please!"

Pop, went the second button.

"I mean it!"

Pop, pop, pop, and pop!

"Draco, open your eyes," Astoria demanded.

"They are open."

"Then uncover them! Great Salazar, I thought you were the Sex God of Slytherin!"

Offended, Draco brought his hands down from his face and glared at her. "I am!"

"Prove it," she hissed and yanked off her shirt, leaving her in a pale pink bra, uniform skirt, and black thigh-high stockings. Draco groaned. How was he supposed to turn her away now?

"Y-your sister will kill me," he stuttered out, his eyes transfixed on her breasts. He wondered if they were as soft as Granger's.

"Just because I got here first," she haughtily replied with a flip of her long, blonde hair, and Draco inwardly commented, 'not necessarily'.

He wondered how he was supposed to pretend Astoria was Granger. They were polar opposites. Astoria was all Valkyrie and spunk, and one could see everything he or she needed to when looking at her once. With Granger, she was attractive, but it was essential to look twice. You look at her once, and you will see nothing but a somewhat pretty girl. Look at her twice, and you will see bits and pieces more. When you keep looking, you obtain the puzzle pieces and assemble them. Granger was swotty, sassy, giggly, vivacious, strong, delicate, sweet, imperfect, unflawed, and a million other different things.

His inward yammering was interrupted when Astoria bent down and kissed him. At first, he resisted, but then gave into her strawberry flavored lips. Merlin, it had been months since he had a woman.

Quite early the next morning, he poked his head out passed Astoria's bed curtains to verify that the other girls in the dormitory were asleep. Feeling certain that they were, he crept away from her side and out of the room and into the Common Room. He was out of the clear until he noticed someone sitting on the couch by the fireplace.

"Draco," nodded Theo.

"Theo," Draco nodded back.

"Astoria?"

"How did y-"

"She's been after you since the end of last term. Did she succeed?"

"It was only…"

"Of course."

An awkward silence settled between them before Draco rolled his eyes and snorted. This was Theo. Not some stranger. Determinedly, he sat across from Theo on the opposite couch.

"So you…saw my dad last night?" Draco inquired, and Theo scoffed.

"Does everyone bloody know? Can't even fart in this place without having every nose in this ruddy castle right there to take a whiff."

"How badly did he…"

"Not bad enough because I'm still here to prove that I am more fit than any other bloke in this castle."

"You are not, You Dubious Wanker! You know I am much more handsome! Need I remind you that of where I was last night?"

"Nowhere that any other bloke fifteen to eighteen hasn't been, my good lad. Astoria's flesh colored bra is my favorite."

Draco blinked. "You've been with her enough times to have a favorite bra?"

"Just a handful," smirked Theo while he raised his cupped hand to annunciate his double entendre and despite himself Draco sniggered mischievously.

"Her sister's pretty fit, too," said Draco with a knowing grin.

"Indeed," agreed Theo.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thank you to all that have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this fic. :)

Thank you to: **Vaneesa85, TS (Guest), and alannalove1990** for the reviews.

This chapter is dedicated to: **the-clumsy-one** ;)

**Warning:** A little M-ish material in this chapter.

And now I present Chapter 26! Enjoy and R&R, please.

* * *

It was Saturday, so Draco was in no particular hurry to get ready for the day. He returned to his dormitory and to his desk where he finished up his reading of the Patronus Charm, contemplating about asking Professor Snape to assist him in producing one. And then he realized that the odds of the man being able to produce one were practically nonexistent. He most certainly could not go up and ask Snape if he could. Patronuses were considered a private and protective sigil for a wizard or a witch.

When Draco finished the assigned chapter, he dressed in some black trousers and a black button up shirt and made way to the Great Hall for breakfast. While passing windows and feeling the dank air, he discovered that it was raining pretty heavily outside. He arrived for breakfast and cast a glance up at the ceiling where huge droplets of water descended from a dark grey sky and fell only to disappear before splashing anyone or anything.

A chill had settled within the castle, so Draco decided on hot porridge for his breakfast. While spooning some of the warm mush into his mouth, Pansy plopped herself down by him with a pitiful groan, and Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He had not seen her eat at the designated time in nearly two weeks and wondered what the occasion was for. He noted the puffy, droopy eyes, the slouch, and the pained frown.

"Rough night?" he inquired.

A pathetic exhale of breath dislodged from her mouth. "Rough morning. Slept fine. Do you have any Pepper Up?"

"Not on me. It's back in my desk in my dorm. You could go to Madam Pomfrey," suggested Draco.

"She'll report me to Snape and Dumbledore for being hungover."

"You were out drinking last night with the Weasel?"

"I wasn't out. Granger was having a surprise birthday party in the Head Common Room, and Weasley invited me. I snuck a bottle of Firewhiskey and spiked the punch. I think me and Granger were two of the only few that actually drank it. Speaking of, she's not here. Must be curled up in her bed nursing a headache like I should be doing. She drank more than me. Oh, and eff why eye. She likes both you and Theo and can't decide between you two."

Draco made a noncommittal noise, and Pansy swiped his mug of steaming coffee and guzzled it down with impressive gusto.

Several squawks could be heard coming from the far window up high, alerting the student body that Owl Post arrived. An owl glided down and landed on the Slytherin table in front of Draco and screeched at him before flexing her wings and flapping them, showering wet drops of water on him. He grunted and shielded himself with his arms and then glared at the fowl that vastly took flight and disappeared out the window. Scowling, Draco wiped at his face with his sleeve and picked up the damp envelope. He recognized the horrendous scrawl that could only belong to Sirius Black and finished up his breakfast, so he could return to his desk and privately read the letter. The letter would inform him of his next assignment of which he could apply to winning over Granger.

At his desk, he opened the letter and read:

_Dear Plonker,_

_ I received your letter earlier this week and dare to consider the thought that there may be hope for you. You, not only finished your assignment, but finished early and did more than necessary._

_For you next assignment, I want you to befriend a Muggle-Born, and I do not condone Miss Granger, Nitwit! I highly suggest becoming acquaintances with a bloke. And no, it cannot be a Half-blood or Blood Traitor, and I will give you three weeks to accomplish this task. Daily of these three weeks, you will write an entry pertaining to your experiences with the Muggle-Born boy and send them to me on the ninth of October. Fail to accomplish this, regardless if you honestly tried, my assistance to your cause will seize. Threaten to take away the Ancestral Home of Black, go ahead. I do not need the moldy, old house to get by in life. I'm Sirius Mother Effing Black. I survived Azkaban. If worse comes to worse, then I will marry a young, pretty heiress with a penchant for bad boys. I'm quite dashing, you know._

_Sirius_

Bloody hell! How was he supposed to do this?! Courting Granger was one thing, but befriending a filthy blooded tosser was another. With Granger, it had become easier to overlook such a major detail that was her blood because she grew up fit and ripe for the plucking. And Merlin, did he want to pluck her bad!

Mudblood boys were an entirely different species than the girls. True, they're both animals: the ladies being like mother lions but the boys being like arse-sniffing, arse-scratching, hairless chimpanzees. And Black wanted him to become mates with one. Yeck!

Draco pouted while folding up the letter and sticking it into the drawer of his desk all the while fishing out a fresh piece of parchment. He needed to write to his mum.

_Dear Mum,_

_ I apologize for failing to write sooner. Seventh year projects and N.E.W.T. classes have kept me assiduous. I hope that you find, with in your dear, motherly heart, the will to forgive your wretched, ungrateful progeny. If these words make you feel better, and I dare pray they do, I appreciate the daily care packages full of chocolate and love notes that you so faithfully send. My mates' mums do not send their sons or daughters such continual affections._

_ Yesterday, in the evening, I became privy to such information that Father was in Hogsmeade in hopes of catching me for a spot pre-dinner tea. I feel most at loss for missing such an opportunity to correspond with my patriarch. Please tell him that I say hello, and I send my best._

_With much love,_

_Your Baby_

Draco shuddered while curling of the tail of the Y on baby and quickly folded up the letter into thirds before he lost his nerves along with the remnants of his dignity. He went to his trunk and pulled out his cloak and made way out the Slytherin Common Room and up to the Main Level, journeying towards the Owlery. Once arriving to the front of the castle, he slipped on the lush and heavy material and dashed towards his destination, the rain pounding heavily onto his covered form.

He jogged up the slippery, stone stairwell and into the Owlery and was most pleasantly surprised to find Granger all alone and huddling with the owls. She was feeding each of them owl treats and stroking the nicer looking ones' fur. Her back was too him, so he sneakily slithered up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered into her ear, "Making friends?"

She jolted and then stiffened in his arms before relaxing. "They're underappreciated animals. They do so much for us, and we give them so little in return."

"They're owls, Granger. They don't need much," Draco said with a light chuckle.

Hermione turned around in his arms with an arched eyebrow. "I believe they need more affection and more treats. I fear that some of the owners of these dear owls are not treating them as much as necessary."

"Perhaps you should start a campaign," Draco sarcastically suggested with a smirk which, unfortunately, was lost on Hermione.

"Do you think I should? I think that would be a good idea. It wouldn't be like S.P.E.W. I certainly do not want to release the owls back to nature, though thinking about does sound tempting. Never mind that. Perhaps something smaller like an Owl Keeper."

"That's what the brute of the Half-Giant is here for, and if he doesn't do it, the job goes to Filch. Anyways, owls take care of themselves. They're predators in their respected food chain, Granger."

"There are so many of them," Granger said while gesturing to all the fowls. "A designated Owl Keep would be a good idea."

"You're adorable," said Draco and bent down and brushed his lips against her forehead. It was then when he noticed the placid, paleness of her skin and the rings looping beneath her usually vibrant eyes.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"You don't look well. Are you ill?"

A dark blush pooled on both of her cheeks, and she stuttered, "W-well, yes. I mean…I was…this morning."

And then Draco remembered what Pansy had said about Granger getting her fill of birthday party fun the night before and smiled. He had nicked a vile of Pepper Up from his dorm in hopes of running into her again, but…

"Hungover, love? Not to worry. I usually carry an extra vile of the goods in my travelling cloaks." He fished inside his pockets and pulled out some Pepper Up Potion and waved it in Granger's face.

Eying the small vial warily, she said, "I'm fine. Besides, my parents don't believe in fixing every little thing the magical way. And that potion can do the same as a cup of coffee, a glass of water, and packet of saltine crackers."

"How do you think it's made?" challenged Draco and Hermione rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "Just mix all that stuff together in a cauldron, tap your wand on the rim, and say a few magic words."

"That's ridiculous. That is not how you make Pepper Up Potion. I've made it before, and that is not how it's done. Don't you remember? We had to learn how to make it last year."

Draco thought back to the memory of making Pepper Up for the first time. It was in March, just six months ago. But that couldn't be right. Hermione wasn't there.

"I made it at home," she informed, obviously sensing his befuddlement. "I received my assignments through the Hogwarts' Owl Post. It's how I became so friendly with this bunch." She turned to the side and stroked the fur on a nearby owl with an adoring expression."

"So is that why you're here? To see your _real_ friends? Wait until I divulge this information to Potter and the Weasley Girl. They will be assuredly heartbroken by such a devastating blow to their humanoid egos."

"I've never met anyone who liked to hear themself talk as much as you do. Not even Harry or Ron is this repugnant. And no, I'm not here to simply coo at my lovelies. I'm here to send a letter to my parents in thanks for my birthday gifts that they sent me yesterday and update them on my well-being. My father especially…well, anyway…why are you here? To drive me crazy with your aristocratic arrogance?"

"You know you love it, but sadly no. I hadn't the faintest idea that you would be here all alone and helpless with nothing but an arse load of owls as your backup. I'm here to send a letter to my mother."

"Do not underestimate them. All I have to do is give them the look, and they will attack. It has to be a certain look. It can't be just any look, and the two main looks are quite similar. One will cause them to claw at you until you bleed out and the other will cause them to fly your body, far, far away."

"Perhaps we _should_ set them free."

"Hmmm. I don't think that would work. They're very loyal creatures, much like House-Elves without the self-mutilation. The owls would come back."

Draco nodded and spotted his owl and sent the bird off with his letter.

"You didn't give him a treat!" howled Hermione with a disapproving frown.

"I never treat the birds."

"You should! Especially in such weather. Merlin, it's pouring out there, and you don't have the slightest compassion towards animals."

"Don't be so hard on me, Granger. I don't have owl treats."

"Then go buy some, and I have some right here with me, and I feel bad because I hadn't got to your bird yet. It's probably starving. You're so mean!"

"That's right, Sweetheart. I'm a nasty bugger, and you couldn't give an arse's arse. And what if I treat the bird and it bites me?"

"You don't treat the bird because you're afraid it will bite you? That's stupid! It should bite you for not providing a treat! And it wouldn't be the most horrible thing if the owl did bite you."

"Yes it would."

"Would you go whine to your daddy and have the fowl beheaded and try to have a teacher sacked because you're nothing but a deranged and spoilt brat with an empathetic range of raindrop?"

"No, I've worked hard to make it much less than that."

"You're impossible!" huffed Hermione and marched passed him, towards the open archway and halted, grimacing at the rain that resembled the force of a bathroom shower. She flipped the hood of her cloak over her head, but she still made no move to leave the Owlery.

"Just cast a Shielding Charm or Water Repellant Charm, Granger," Draco chided.

"I don't have my wand," she said with a hint of embarrassment. "It wasn't raining that terribly when I got here, and I was only going to mail the letter to my parents, but the owls looked so sweet and hungry. Would you cast one on me, please?"

Fury boiled inside of Draco at Hermione for leaving her wand behind. Stupid move on her part. What if some imbecile snuck up on her and tried to take her away again?!

"Fine," he clipped. "Turn around."

She did and slipped his hand into his pocket…and then slipped his other hand into his other pocket.

"Shite!" he cursed and groaned, tossing his head back in dismay.

"You forgot your wand?" Hermione questioned with dubiety. "We're going to get soaked!"

"I don't fancy the idea either, Granger, but we're just going to have to be adults about this. A little water never hurt anyone. We'll just have to run for it."

"Walk. Run. I guarantee you, Malfoy; we will arrive to the castle looking the same."

"Then we'll skip to make it interesting," he said while standing by her side by the archway. He put the hood of his cloak on and slipped his hand into hers. "On the count of three. One, two, three!"

At a somewhat safe, running pace, Draco led Hermione down the stairwell. At the bottom step, he changed his mind about going to the castle and ran in the opposite direction.

"Where are you taking me? The castle is that way!" she shouted over the rain. Draco didn't answer and hoped that she would not wrench her hand away from his. He brought her to the edge of the Forbidden Forest and ventured passed the boundary in just the slightest. A couple of trees deep, he found the one he was looking for. The shrubbery was tall and protective, a willow thick with branches and mossy leaves to shield anything or anyone from the weather.

Draco plopped down underneath the tree with Granger in tow, resting his body against the trunk while Granger lost her balance from the abrupt loss of stability and stumbled on him. He snickered at her and helped her to a sitting position. His laughter deepened when she scowled at him.

"We can't be here, Malfoy! This is the Forbidden Forest, and we will get into so much trouble if we're caught! And why did you bring us here?"

"I know where we are, and no one is going to be patrolling the grounds in this weather. Only mischievous teenagers attempt the choppy rain. As for the reason why I brought you here…I want to be alone with you."

Hermione rested the side of her head against the tree trunk and shook it. "We shouldn't be alone."

"Don't trust me? Or don't trust yourself? Don't bloody care. Just kiss me."

She stared at him for a few seconds, her eyes drifting to his lips before shaking her head again.

"Then I'm going to kiss you."

She moved to get away from him, but he was quick and tackled her to the damp ground beneath them, providing a cushion of sort to Hermione's back. Her hood fell off leaving her dewy, pretty face in plain view to Draco who was on all fours above her. The knees of his trousers slightly sunk into the moist ground beneath them, but he didn't care. He was preoccupied by the feisty beauty beneath him. She had not made another move to get away. Instead, she lay there with her chest rising up and down in a heavy pant of adrenaline and excitement, curiosity with a dash of guilt pooling in her eyes.

He leaned down and brushed his wet mouth, fresh and chilled from the rain, against Hermione's. A sharp inhale of breath from her was all Draco needed to continue the kiss, quickly becoming addicted to the icy lips he was sucking on. He slipped his tongue to meet hers and wondered if she had opened her mouth to drink from the sky whilst he guided her to the spot underneath the willow tree. The spry, pink muscle was cool and mixed with the warm puffs of breath enticingly. Not wanting the fascinating thing to distract him from what he really wanted to savor, he pulled out his own tongue and restarted the abuse on her lips again. He sucked in the top and then the bottom and smiled a bit when he felt that wet fascination prick at his top lip and then fit itself snuggly underneath it before flicking it sensuously.

Reasonability flew out of the brain, and Draco lowered himself even further onto Hermione, so his body weight was resting on hers. Momentarily, he pulled away from her lips and looked down between them as his hands found the bottom of her button up shirt. One by one, from bottom to top, he undid the buttons, unsatisfied with each pop until he reached the last one. He kissed her deeply again while fingers peeled back the material and separated their mouths once more so he could see the exposition of creamy skin, a powder blue bra with fluffy, little lamb prints covering pert but substantial looking breast, and a darling little belly button. That was where he decided to resume his work. He peppered kisses on the cute crevice in the middle of her stomach before moving onto the expanse of skin around it. Up the slopes leading to her ribs, he damply mouthed her cage and did the same to the fluffy lamb in the middle of her chest. He lingered there for much longer than he did the other places and flicked his gaze to hers.

"Can I?" he begged while his fingertips caressed from the top of her Muggle jeans that drove him bonkers and upwards, teasing the wire of her bra below her left breast.


	27. Chapter 27

Thank you to all that are reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting this fic.

Thank you to: **Vaneesa85, River in Egypt, TheMargoRothSpiegelman, alannalove1990, Guest, amama123, and the-clumsy-one** for the reviews. I appreciate them so much! :)

**Warning:** In this chapter, you will get a dose of an irrational Ginny. Read at your own risk.

Enjoy Chapter 27 and R&R!

* * *

"You're acting like an arse!" hissed Ginny, refraining from barking at the top of her lungs. Madam Pince would not appreciate such a sentiment. "You should be so lucky that I'm even taking the time to help you, Zabini!"

"You're helping me because you said you would when Gryffindor lost to Slytherin. Lo and behold, the reason why we are here now. Believe me; I would rather be elsewhere, too."

"Then go somewhere else! It's Saturday, and I would rather be doing something fun than sitting on my arse while you scowl into the textbooks and whine." She raised her voice to a whiney, high-pitched tone. "I don't get it! I don't effing get it!' Dear Gods, Zabini! Awful, I reckoned that you were. I had no idea that you were a fool!"

Blaise sneered, his temper escalating by the second. Great Salazar, she was driving him barmy! And why was he even there? He promised himself that he was done with this shite because of what happened with Luna. He had tried to find her the previous night and asked around when he couldn't. She was hanging with Granger and her friends for the evening in the Head Common Room. This morning at breakfast, he had planned on confronting her there but while approached the Ravenclaw table, he heard Patil giggle to Edgcombe that Luna was looking rather cozy with Michael at Granger's party. Smoothly, he walked past the table like nothing in the world could make him care about a damned thing and sat down at the Slytherin table where he glared at his waffles. And now he was at the library because of a predetermined tutoring session with the Weaselette that he scheduled before his mess with Luna. What he wanted to do was blow this dried up joint of gillyweed and find a Greengrass sister and go in search of a nice secluded area of the castle and spend the day shagging. Or, if he didn't have an ounce a pride, go find Theo and ask him about the rumors circulating over the castle about him being punished by Lucius Malfoy at Hogsmeade.

That thought gave him an idea. With his sneer still immaculately intact, he slammed his textbook shut. "You want to go somewhere else? Fine, let's go."

"What?" Ginny questioned with an incredulous expression. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I want to go somewhere. You want to go somewhere. Let's go Hogsmeade."

"You're mad! To Hogsmeade? With you? I would never, and it's raining, and we'd have to get permission first to leave the castle, which we definitely won't get because of the weather. And-And I have a boyfriend!"

"Funny how that was the last thing on your list. As for obtaining permission…permission is for Goody- Goody Gryffindors and Hoity- Toity Hufflepuffs."

"I'm not going!" affirmed Ginny.

"I'll meet you at the Great Hall entrance in about a half-hour. Don't be late, Weasley."

Ginny watched him disappear within the stacks towards the entrance with a hateful glare. How she loathed him! He was such a blithering bastard!

She stood to her feet and forcefully gathered up the note papers, quills, ink, and the History of Magic text book and violently shoved them inside her satchel while muttering curse words under her breath. What bloody, effing, fantastic, way to start the weekend! First, she woke up with a pounding headache from indulging on the birthday cake from the Hermione's surprise party and steeling sips of the punch, which she knew was spiked by Pansy, but a little Firewhiskey never hurt anyone. Then Terry Boot came up to her and asked her if she wanted to see something blue but was actually kind of purple if one looked at it long enough. Having six older brothers, Ginny knew exactly what he was talking about, and despite her drunken curiosity, kindly declined and guided him over to Lavender.

She had refilled her cup and was pleased to see that Hermione was having a good time and letting herself enjoy the party, for the girl was thoroughly sloshed and Pansy was nearly there. Ginny was nearly tempted to join their conversation but tossed that idea. Instead, she poured a cup for Harry and sought him out in the crowd. She knew he shouldn't be drinking with his medicated capfuls in his system, but it was just a tiny bit a punch. There should not be much, if any, harm.

Harry had been in a heated discussion with Ron about Quidditch strategies and how the Gryffindors were going to win the next game against Slytherin. Ginny told her brother to bugger off, who just rolled his eyes and muttered that he wanted to shag Pansy anyway.

Ten minutes and two empty cups later, she and Harry were snogging like nobody's rudding business. And then things got out of hand when they somehow meandered their way into Hermione's room and on her bed. Luckily, they both passed out before they did something irresponsible like have un-sober sex on their best friend's bed at her birthday party.

Then the morning came. Ginny was furious at the close call she and Harry made the night before and knew she should not have been that drunk to even attempt intercourse. She only drank three cups of Firewhiskey spiked punch. That was only enough to get a Weasley giggly and flirty, not a face-sucking horny person!

She had scrambled out of the bed and screamed at Harry to wake up. His half-dressed-self jolted awake, and Ginny ripped into him for not being the responsible one, and questioned why he let things get to the brink. He defended himself by claiming that, from what he remembered, couldn't help his randiness and asked what was in the punch.

And their worst row, yet, broke out.

Ginny snapped at him for being childish for blaming his horniness on the punch when he only had one cup of spiked punch.

Harry balked and snorted, not knowing that the punch had even been spiked.

She said that the punch had a dash of Firewhiskey in it and called him a fool.

He called her a tease.

She called him bespectacled git.

He called her bitch.

And things got really nasty.

Wanker!

Slag!

Am not, you plonker!

Insults flew back and forth across Hermione's Head Girl room, where she had laid curled up on her Muggle beanbag chair with her Beauty and the Beast quilt her gran made her for her sixth birthday.

The fight concluded with Harry erupting a, _"Two-timing Harlot! I know you're shagging Zabini! I know your shagging that one guy who sent you that letter!"_

And then Ginny erupted, _"I hate you!"_

And then Harry erupted, _"I hate you, more!"_

"_We're over!" _they had both bellowed in unison and ran for the door, knocking their shoulders together painfully. Ginny roughly pushed him away from her and ran out of the bedroom, out of the Head Common Room where she had to hop over several of her snoozing classmates that had found homage on the floor.

Bolting to the Gryffindor Tower, to her dormitory, she threw herself on her bed and sobbed for half-hour before peeling her nauseated and sore body off the bed and washed up the in the lavatory. After that, she went straight to the kitchens and fetched some dry toast and some bacon which she washed down with a cup of coffee, a glass of pumpkin juice, and a glass of water. A quick trip, via en route to the loo, Ginny was ready for her tutoring session with Zabini who had arrived in rare form of snarling and gnashing of teeth.

She thought of Zabini's invitation to go with him to Hogsmeade. It certainly was not a particularly polite invite on his part, but he did offer, and there really wasn't much to do that day aside from starting a Potions essay due in two weeks. Seeking Hermione out to have a shoulder to cry on was alluring, but the girl was probably nursing a headache and slobbering on saltines and reprimanding herself for having fun. Ginny didn't want to put the load on her just yet.

Having made her decision, she exited the library and went to Gryffindor Tower and was thankful that Harry was nowhere in sight. She replaced the satchel with her purse, checked her makeup, and pulled out her cloak from her trunk and draped it over her arm.

According to _The Student Handbook of Hogwarts_, Ginny was obligated to receive permission of her Head of House and or the Headmaster to go to Hogsmeade on an undesignated weekend because she was not of yet of age. She shrugged that regulation off, knowing she would not get it due to being in the village the night before.

Zabini was resting his back against the stone wall and smirked when he saw the Weaselette arrive and ready in her black cloak. He was wearing his dark green one and offered her an arm before exiting the castle. Hesitantly, she looped her arm through his. He pulled out his wand and cast a Water Repellant Charm on both of them before leading her out into the rain.

* * *

"I d-don't th-think we should g-go any f-further, Malfoy," gasped out Hermione, her eyes trained on the willow branches above her, too embarrassed and ashamed to look down. She had tried to look to the sides for a change of scenery, but to her right was Malfoy's shirt and to the left was her bra. And there she was lying on the wet, almost mushy, forest floor with his head on her chest doing naughty things.

"Are you telling me to stop?" he chuckled into her bare skin while wicked fingers drifted down her tummy to the top of her jeans where he popped open the button and lowered her zipper. His forefinger teased the elastic band of her knickers, and she squeaked and squirmed beneath him.

"No more!" she panted. "No! Stop! I've let you do enough bad things to me!" She pushed at his shoulders and he rolled off of her with a pout, and she hurriedly snatched her bra and fumbled it on with shaky arms and hands.

"Do you want me to get that for you?" asked Draco, noticing that she was having trouble with the hooks. She sent him an annoyed expression. "I was the one to take it off after all."

"Guh! You're disgusting! You're mean! You're a pig! I hate that I'm attracted to you. I hate that you seduced me out of my bra! Why couldn't you be ugly?! Why can't your insides match your outsides?!" she barked while buttoning up her shirt.

"You make it sound like you fancy a villain, Granger," Draco drawled, thinking her rant was quite cute.

"You _are_ a villain!"

Draco smirked, which quickly faltered, a thought dawning on him. "And…what is Theo? Is he the hero?"

"Malfoy…" she started tiredly. "Don't bring him up."

"I'd be careful with him. His charm may be smooth as butter, but he can be just a bad as I am, Granger. Just as nasty. Just as uncouth. Just as crass."

"You're doing nothing but persuading me to stay clear from both of you," Hermione said while readjusting her cloak and flipping up the hood to cover her curls. "In fact…you have. Tell Mr. Nott that I thank him ever so much for his company last night but do apologize in future reference of my eternal avoidance from him. To soothe him, you should pitch in that you are not allowed to be within a twenty foot radius of me either."

"Well, that's silly," scoffed Draco while pulling on his shirt. "We have a lot of classes together. The hallways would not accommodate nor the classrooms."

"Then I suggest you take caution," Hermione said gravely. "I will hex you, and I will hex Theo. My unethical involvement with both of you will seize immediately. I will not harness leashes on both of you to keep as my beck and call pets."

"That is easily rectifiable. Choose me and be done with it. We can talk about this over a spot of tea in the Astronomy Tower this evening. Let's say around eight," Draco lightly suggested as Hermione stood up.

"No, Malfoy," she shook her head solemnly and just like that, she was gone, having ran away at in impressive speed.


	28. Chapter 28

"Lucius, darling," Narcissa Malfoy called out her husband while entering his home office, a large open book snug against her chest.

Without looking up from his work, he said, "Yes, My Flower?"

"I want another baby!"

The quill that Lucius had been writing with halted, and he looked up and his dear, sweet wife in aghast. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Oh, Lucius," she mewled dramatically and rushed over to his side as fast as her Muggle heels could take her. (She insisted that she needed a pair of Manolo Blahnik's for her birthday). "I was looking at Draco's baby pictures, and he was so precious! I want another baby, Husband."

"Narci-"

Lucius was cut short when his wife pushed away the important papers that he had in front of them and replaced them with the open book. He scowled down at the infant pictures of his progeny. This particular picture was taken ten minutes after the lad was born. Draco had been eight pounds and ten ounces of a pouting mess, and in the picture, he was swaddled in a green fleece blanket with sleeping eyes and droopy lips puckered and sucking on air. Little wisps of blonde curls were poking out from the top of a little cap .

Lucius pursed his lips and arched a brow. "Darling,-"

Narcissa flipped the page and cooed at the photograph of her then six month old son who was propped against a mountain of stuffed animals with a slobbery grin and chunky arms and legs spilling out of his onesie.

"Oh, Lucius! He was so delicious! I remember just nibbling on him all day long."

Narcissa continued to flip the pages, the photographs showing Draco age little by little. By the time Narcissa had reached the picture taken a mere three weeks before, she was blubbering.

"He grew up too fast, Lucius," she sniffled and buried her head face into his neck, her tears leaking onto his pristinely, expensive business robes. "He's practically a man now!"

"Exactly, Cissa," Lucius said in a comforting tone, try his best to tread across sugar glass that could only describe the delicacy of his wife's moods. "He's a man now and-"

High pitched wails echoed throughout his office, and she clung to him like she was drowning.

"Shh, Sweetheart. Everything will be alright. Draco is a man, and he will mostly likely marry in a short while once his schooling is complete. I hear grandchildren are as just as delightful, if not more so, than direct offspring."

Narcissa hiccupped and pulled away from him and gave him a confused look. "Grandchildren?"

"Indeed."

"But that could be forever away, Lucius," she moaned and rolled her eyes. "I want a baby now!"

"It will not be forever. I'm sure he will marry soon."

"Who?"

"Pardon?"

"Who will he marry?"

Uneasiness crept upon Lucius, but he smiled indulgently at his wife regardless. "He and Miss Parkinson always got along."

Narcissa frowned at him, distrust evident in her eyes. "Speaking of, I had a Floo call with Miranda Bulstrude and Patricia Parkinson this morning."

"Had you?"

"According to Miranda who heard from her daughter, Pansy is associating with one of the sons of that Blood Traitor family. The one in poverty with all the ginger haired children. The youngest one, assuming Millicent isn't lying, is the one Pansy is spending all of her time with. Apparently Patricia was unaware of the juvenile affair, for she was outraged and things got heated between the two. I left them to it and excused myself."

"It's probably just a rumor. Miss Parkinson is a smart girl and would never philander about with a Weasley of all people. I do think she and Draco would make a fabulous match. They did court each other once before. Who is to say they won't again?"

"Exactly! We don't know!" exclaimed Narcissa. She stood up straight and glared down at him. "I don't want to wait until Draco finds a girl to marry! I want a baby now!"

"Perhaps an arranged marriage," Lucius offered lightly. "Force him to marry the day after graduation and provide an heir within a year. It's all the rage in Eastern Europe."

"Take off your robes, Husband," she demanded icily with her hands on her hips.

_A little while later..._

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Cissa?"

"I'm already pregnant."

Lucius, who had been resting in front of the fireplace with his wife beside him, snapped open his eyes in horror and stared fearfully at her.

"A-are you sure? Because I hear sometimes that wom-"

"I saw the Healer yesterday evening when you went to Hogsmeade to have tea with Draco."

"Oh."

Narcissa beamed and cuddled into her husband's side. "This is going to be wonderful. Another baby is exactly what this house needs. I can already hear the sound of pitter-patter already. Oh, it will be wonderful! I wonder what we will have! What do you think of a little girl?"

Lucius frowned. "Malfoys do not have girls."

Narcissa smirked. "My father used to say that Blacks do not have girls, and do you know what happened?"

He grunted.

"He got three of them," she giggled. Her mirth did not last long, however, for a stricken expression of loss pooled over her features and tears beaded up in her eyes. With a strangled choking sound, she buried herself deeper into her husband's side.

"There, there." Lucius stroked his wife's hair. "No need for tears, wife."

"I miss them so much! I miss how things used to be! They weren't always difficult! Oh, Darling! Maybe I should write Andy a letter. I was so sad when she didn't come to our wedding."

"She wasn't invited."

"She should have come anyway! Even Sirius showed up! That stupid cad!" she blubbered. "And he was _always_ difficult!"

"Well, I don't approve of you writing her. She is no longer a part of-"

"I don't need your approval!" shrilled Narcissa and scooted herself away from her husband to glower at him properly.

A pop broke the couple from their conversation, and an elf shyly handed Lucius a stack of posts and quickly disappeared. He began to shuffle through them when Narcissa yanked the envelopes from his grasp.

"I'm going to go through them today," she haughtily informed him, and he raised both brows.

"It is the husband's duty to do such things, Wife."

Narcissa stuck her tongue out at him while going through the mail.

"Junk," she said and tossed an envelope to the side. "Junk, junk, junk, junk. Ju- Oh! Draco has written! How lovely!"

Lucius watched her open the letter and skim the parchment, a frown slowly forming on her lips.

"What's wrong? Is he alright?" asked Lucius.

"You said that you had tea with Draco last night in Hogsmeade, correct?"

Hesitantly, Lucius said, "Yes."

"Draco has written that he had heard that you were in Hogsmeade, but he was not. In fact…he said that he was unaware that you were actually there."

"He's lying, Sweetheart."

"Why would he? It was just tea. What were you doing in Hogsmeade, Lucius, if you were not there to see Draco?"

"Cissa-"

"Were you hoping that _she _would be there? That Mudblood girl? What have I told you?"

"Darling-"

"What have I told you?!"

"…"

"Lucius!"

"To leave her alone," he mumbled.

"Did you see her?"

"…yes…"

"Did you hurt her?"

"…no…"

"Did you speak ill to her?"

"…not in particularly…"

"So you did nothing to harm her physically or verbally?"

"…no…"

"What stopped you? I know you. If you had made plans, then you would have followed through."

Lucius blinked in surprise at Narcissa's last question. His wife's expression hardened as if she was willing him to answer the question.

"She was not alone…"

"Did something happen?"

"Sweetheart, I know that you don't like the Discipline Laws of Pureblood Aristocracies, but…"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Young Mr. Nott was with her: Theodore. They were…talking."

"Oh."

"It's unbecoming of a young man of Pureblood and title to be associating with such filth. I did what was necessary," explained Lucius and Narcissa sighed.

"It wasn't necessary," she told him. "And I'm very upset with you. He's a boy, Lucius. He will philander about in his youth. What if it had been Draco? Would you have been so hasty to lift your wand?"

"I would have done what needed to be done, regardless of who was in front of me. Nevertheless, Theodore needs a firm hand. He has slackened in his manners towards his elders without his father around. He needs a father figure."

"What are suggesting?" asked Narcissa.

"Nothing as of now, but I think he should accompany us for the hols and school breaks. Perhaps even live here after graduation for just a little while. I fear that the Mudblood girl may lead him so far off the path, he may not return. Draco would be upset if he lost a friend to such humiliating filth."

"I understand, Lucius. I do," said Narcissa with a sigh. "But I think you are scrutinizing when all you really need to do is to look. Theo is just testing the waters. He's a _boy_, Lucius. He sees a pretty girl, and he won't think about the consequences. When he grows up and into a man, we won't have to worry."

"Would you be saying these things if it were our son, Cissa?" asked Lucius and curled his lips into a grin when his wife blanched.

"We won't have to worry about such things. Our son is very adamant about avoiding Mudbloods. I don't to worry about him fancying a girl of less than prestigious blood. Draco is not one to salivate over a simple pretty face. I know it."

_Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts..._

Faint scratching sounds of a well-inked quill whisking across a parchment could be heard in the Seventh Year Male Dormitory. Theo sat at his desk and was writing an essay for Potions. Every now and then, he would steal a glance at his watch, keeping an eye out for lunchtime. He planned on catching Granger's eye in the Great Hall where they could have eye-sex with each other until she would innocently excuse herself from her fellow lions and saunter out of the area and with a lasting, come-hither expression tossed in his direction. He would follow her, and she would lead him to the Head Dormitories and into her room where she would give him permission to do anything to her with exception of actual deflowering.

Wet, squelching sounds were approaching the door, and Theo craned his head to see Draco coming through with an irked face. It was like he had been waiting for Christmas all year only to be told by Christmas itself that it wasn't interested in being celebrated anymore and could go put a star on his head and shag off.

"What happened to you?" asked Theo

Draco fell onto his bed face first, his reply being heavily muffled. "Granger happened. That bitch says hello, thank you, and bugger off. She's done with both of us, and I think she meant it, the filthy prig." Draco raised his head and flipped over and sat up to face Theo. "If that dirty-blooded tease thinks she can just avoid me, she has another thing coming to her! I'm a Mother Effing Malfoy, and I will not stand for such childish behavior from the woman that I love! She will love me!"

"Uh…Draco…."

And like that, an anguished sob sprung from Draco's lips, and he curled into the fetal position while hugging his pillow tightly.

"Draco," Theo tried again. "Did you say that she was done with…both of us?"

"Yes!"

"Not just you?"

"Exactly! She says she's done with us, but I don't care. I'll give her some space for now."

Like a toddler with a concluding tantrum, Draco fell asleep on his bed leaving Theo by himself with his own idling to stew over. He was tempted to cast Beating Hex on Draco for ruining his chance with Granger. Now he was going to have to start all the hell over again. He was going murder Draco in his sleep before Christmas, he was sure of it.

During lunch, Theo had tried to catch her eye in the Great Hall, but she was acting as a handkerchief for Potter who was weeping into her shoulder and clinging to her like a lost child.

It wasn't until Monday morning at breakfast when Theo realized why.

"Oh my Gods!" squealed Daphne as she skipped to the table and placed herself in between Draco and Gregory while sitting across from Blaise and Theo. She eyed Blaise with a scandalized smirk. "Guess what I just got an earful of in the girl's loo." Without waiting for anyone to ask, she burst, "Potter and the Weasley Girl are over, and she's already dating someone new! And he's sitting at this very table!"

Murmuring, guffaws, and whispers swept across the table.

"Blaise Zabini," she announced in triumph and then skipped away, leaving the jar of flobberworms opened and tipped over.

Everyone's eyes zeroed in on Blaise who continued to eat in silence like he had not heard nor cared what Daphne had sprouted from her gossipy mouth.

In Charms class, it was official that Daphne's claim had some credulity to them. Potter walked in with Granger looking pale, exhausted, ill, gloomy, and decidedly homicidal. Theo would know. He saw that look on his father's face daily while growing up Pre-Hogwarts.

Potter and Granger sat next to each other, him being rather close to her. Theo wasn't really jealous of the contact. The poor bloke was seeking comfort, grasping at something that was stable and constant: a friend.

Weasley was sitting cozily next to Pansy while glaring daggers at Potter's head.

The Weaselette came in with her arm looped around Blaise's. She held timidity in her posture and face, aware that people were looking. As for Blaise, his face was completely void of any emotion, and Theo felt a pang of loss of his own neutrality. It was hard to woo Granger and be without feeling at the same time.

That evening, when the Slytherins returned to their pit, Draco and Theo were all over Blaise with questions.

"I thought you said-"

"Is this just for show or-"

"You are king, Zabini! How did you break up the Golden Couple?"

"What about Luna?"

"I think we can work this into our plans of winning over Granger. Potter's most definitely distracted, but he did seem rather cozy with Granger."

"He just needs a friend."

"He'll need comfort."

"Granger won't give in. He'll find it elsewhere."

And indeed, Potter did.

To be continued…

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A/N: Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited.

Thank you to: **alannalove1990, TheMargoRothSpiegelman, Vaneesa85, amama123, and Guest **for the reviews.

I hope you liked the chapter. Please R&R and tell me what you think.

I will be taking an updating break for one or two weeks. So sorry, but Jules needs a break before the holidays come and kill her. *Waves goodbye* Have a good a good weekend and Halloween next week!


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Hey! I'm back and kicking! Thanks so much to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those have favorited this fic.

Thank you to: **bookivore, fakeangel100, amama123, alannalove1990, and Vaneesa85** for the reviews. I sure appreciate them.

To **bookivore**: That sounds interesting. I'll keep that in mind.

To **fakeangel**: I know what you mean. Spectacular Theomione stories are hard to find. I'm glad you think this is good.

To **amama123**: I'm back! Always a joy to see a review from you. :)

To **alannalove1990**: I guess we shall see what happens with Harry and Luna. I'm not giving anything away.

To **Vaneesa85**: I'm so glad you love this story as well as **Lineage**. I'm so grateful to have your read with both fics.

To **all my other cool people**: Thanks and enjoy the chapter! R&R!

* * *

"Harry, are you positive about this?" asked Hermione while slipping on a pair of sparkly, golden flats before turning her back to him while he was sitting on her bed flipping through a magazine. "Zip me up, please."

Harry got off the bed and tugged the zipper upwards while replying. "I think it's good for me to get out. You said so yourself."

"I know, but this isn't what I meant."

"I already gave Pucey my R.S.V.P."

"Zabini might be there," Hermione softly said and turned to face him while smoothing down the ends of her hair.

"I see Zabini every day, Hermione," he pointed out with a small laugh.

"True," she replied with a worried grin. "I just don't want you to lose your mind, yell out a battle cry, and tackle him to the floor, again, like you did in Potions yesterday. You lost Gryffindor thirty points."

"If the need to extort Muggle violence drifts up on me, I will refrain and use my wand," Harry lightly said with an affirmed hand to his heart.

"That's all I ask," Hermione scoffed while straightening his tie. "There. Now you are somewhat presentable."

"What do you mean by 'somewhat?'"

"That hair, Harry, is ridiculous."

"You are not the person who has the right to be making hair jokes, Hermione."

"My hair looks fine!" she shrilled while checking her reflection in her vanity.

"It's definitely an improvement from that atrocity you tried to walk out of the dorm room with yesterday," said her reflection with heavy sass and a wink.

"It's up and out of the way," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone to Harry. "And I think it looks nice."

"I'm just giving you a hard time. Your hair does look nice. All of you looks nice. In fact…you may look too nice. Maybe you shouldn't come after all."

"Oh, you! You're being ridiculous if you think I'm going to let you go by yourself after you begged me to come with. And like I said, it would be a foolish move on my part to let you attend a party alone hosted by a former Slytherin. However, I do want you to have fun. You've had a quite a bad week. If you find a pretty girl…"

"Ask her for a dance, drink, or a Floo number. I know."

"Good. Do you have your coat? The Portkey? Wand? Watch? Study notes in case things get dreary?"

"Yes," moaned Harry while shrugging on his coat as Hermione slipped on hers.

While walking out of the castle and towards Apparition Grounds, Hermione inquired. "Does Sirius know that you are leaving the castle for the night?"

"No, and he won't ever. He'd never let me go to a party full of Slytherins. Please don't mention this to him."

Hermione harrumphed. "I won't but keeping this from him will not do either of you any favors. Furthermore, has he given you any good advice about the whole breakup with Ginny?"

"He's been busy with Remus and Tonks expecting and helping out Andromeda. Things have been tough for her since Teddy passed. He did write back and give me some belated advice from when I was mere speculating about Ginny. Of course, it didn't work. I just barely had the nerve to tell him that we're no longer together. He hasn't got back to me yet. Do you think he'll be disappointed in me? For not keeping ahold of Ginny?"

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "I am really sorry about what happened between you two. Truly, I am, but I don't want to talk about this. For now, I want you to try and have fun tonight and maybe even meet someone new."

"That's great and really supportive of you, but I really don't think that's going to happen. Maybe I should just get drunk."

"That will be impossible since I will be monitoring your alcohol consumption and how you will have none."

Harry mumbled something unintelligible, and they both checked their watches.

"It's 8:14. Your Portkey activates in one minute. Get it out."

Harry pulled out the shot glass from his coat pocket, and Hermione hurriedly touched it. Before long, they both felt hooking tugs from behind their navels and were violently placed in a dark, dank alley and in front of a door that was part of some sort of establishment. Hermione frowned while speculating the door with elite precision. Thumping music of drums and sensuous techno was coming from behind it. It was clearly Muggle music. She whipped her head back and forth.

"Harry, where did you say the party was being held?" she dared to ask and he threw her a horrified stare.

"I-I didn't ask Pucey."

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath at the revelation and snaked her arm through Harry's. "We are not going in there until we find out where we are. Follow me."

She led him down the alley towards a street that appeared decidedly Muggle and populated with vehicles. The closer the two got to the street, neon lights greeted and blinded them from neighboring buildings and taxi vehicles with vibrant, scandalous advertising. Harry goggled and Hermione slapped a hand over his glasses.

"Dear Gods! I think…I think we're in Muggle Amsterdam!" she gasped out and turned on her heel and trudged back to the spot where they appeared and began to pace in front of the door. "We cannot be here! This is a very, bad, bad place! We must go back to school this very instant! Give me the shot glass!"

Harry, still a little numb from seeing a picture of a fully naked woman, handed her the shot glass. She fiddled with it, waving her wand about it and muttering spells underneath her breath. The last spell she incanted caused the glass to shatter and lodge a shard deeply into the skin of her palm and blood quickly began to spout gushingly from her hand.

"Ah!" Hermione howled in pain while tears sprung freely from her eyes. Her chin began to wobble, and Harry scrambled, dancing around her, unsure of what to do or how to help.

"What do I do? What do I do?" Harry said in a mantra while bouncing up and down as he yanked at the ends of his hair. "Should I _Accio_ the glass?"

"Harry!" she wailed and her chest heaved up and down. "It went straight through! It might break off! I could get blood poisoning!"

"What do I do? What do I do?" Harry restarted his chant and pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's bleeding hand and suddenly felt a tad woozy when seeing the bloody tip of the shard a half-inch long sticking up at the back of Hermione's hand.

Harry doubled over and retched.

"You arse!" she screamed at the top of her lungs and then resumed her painful whimpers of pain. "I don't know what to do! I want to go home! It hurts! I'm bleeding on my shoes, and they're brand new! My daddy bought them for me for my birthday!"

Between spews, Harry wheezed out, "I think you're going into shock!"

"Ow!" Hermione choked and found enough sense to raise her hand above her head, blood now sliding down her arm into the sleeve of her coat.

Harry tried to be calm enough to point his wand at himself to seize his own vomiting but the door opened and out stepped a young man of late teens close to early twenties wearing black Muggle jeans and a black T-shirt with a picture of Led Zeppelin on the front.

The boy frowned while looking at them, casting his gaze from the sad looking girl to the bloke on the ground before asking her, "Did he hurt you, Miss?"

Silently, Hermione shook her head and sniffled while Harry piped up. "You're Adrian Pucey, right?"

The boy looked at Harry and then smiled. "Potter! I'm glad you could make it. I was wondering if you were going to show."

Adrian offered his hand and Harry took it, climbing to his feet with the assistance with sheepishness. "Sorry, I'm a bit…nauseous."

"You and everyone else, my good man," snickered Adrian. "The only difference is, is that you have yet to join the celebration. No worries. The night is still young leaving you plenty of time to get properly hammered and sick."

Harry offered an awkward smile and turned his eyes on Hermione who persisted to silently weep, no longer holding her hand up in the air. Adrian followed his gaze and asked, "Are you alright, Miss?"

She didn't say anything so Harry answered for her, "No, she hurt her hand. She has glass stuck in there. We're not sure what to do or which spell that will properly take care of the wound without causing an infection."

"Oh, Sweetheart," cooed Adrian and then he extended his hand and beckoned her with his fingers. "Come here, and I'll fix you right up."

Slowly and quietly, Hermione went towards him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and rubbed her arm up and down soothingly. "You'll be okay, love." And he guided her inside with Harry right behind them.

Once inside, there were two ways you could go. One way was down the darkened hallway to the right and the other was to go forward towards the misty air, thumping music, and bouncy florescent light beams where shadows of partiers were clearly gyrating together.

"Sweetheart, just go down the hall. The first door on your right is where you want to be. I'll be there in just a moment."

Harry's eyes popped out of his head at Adrian's words and shook his head firmly. "I don't think-"

"All will be fine," he assured Harry with an inconspicuous wink that Hermione could not see.

She left the two boys leaving behind heart-clenching whimpers in her wake. When she was out of earshot, Adrian turned to Harry with an arched eyebrow and a knowing smirk. "I said no dates, Potter, but a lass and arse like that, I can understand."

Harry bit on his tongue to keep from shouting obscenities, but he gravelly informed, "She's not my date."

"No?" Adrian question with incredulity. "I don't believe you. It's okay. I won't wring you too harshly for bringing your girlfriend. She probably insisted on coming along, making sure you stay faithful and all that. Although, I thought you were in cahoots with that delicious Weasley girl. But never mind that-"

"She's not my date. She's not my girlfriend," Harry claimed through gritted teeth.

"Then what is she?" challenged Adrian with a grin.

Harry licked his lips and swallowed, hurriedly thinking of something that may scare off the other boy from Hermione. "She's my bodyguard. You wouldn't believe how many people try to throw themselves at me or try to kill me: men, women, children. I'm Harry Potter, you know? I'm famous and the things she can do with a wand…Sometimes, she doesn't even use one. She broke a boy's nose before with her bare fist and once killed a man with a lolly pop."

The former Slytherin blinked slowly as if he were processing the other boy's words gradually, ensuring that he heard correctly.

"That's…unbelievably hot!" laughed Adrian and pushed a scowling Harry towards the misty green air and sporadic lights. "I'm going to go and assist your bodyguard. I will make sure that she's at the top of her game when I'm done with her. Go have fun. I don't think anyone will try to kill you tonight, but I can't promise you won't be molested. It's okay, though. The bints are fit, and don't bother tipping them, but you can if you want. I've hired them to entertain for the entire night. Keep in mind, they only take Euros. But if the type isn't your cup of tea, there are some girls you may recognize from school from this year or previous years. And if you drink too much and try to sober up with coffee from here or anywhere in this city, it won't do you much good at this time of night. You'll have to wait until morning to get a proper cup of java. And another thing, do not use magic here. There are Muggles among us, my good lad."

With a final shove from Adrian who yanked his coat off in the process, Harry stumbled into the club area and blinked to adjust his vision, the sporadic neon beams of light throwing off his vision. He swept his eyes across the room and noted that there were several 'entertainers' on vertical poles and in cages while ravenous looking men stared hungrily at them. He looked behind him for Adrian, but he was gone. Bravely, he stepped further into the room, taking one foot at a time, slowly but with purpose, nearing the bar. He shouldn't drink while taking his capfuls, but a glass of…what was being served? He plopped down on a bar stool and thought about ordering butterbeer from the surly looking bartender but thought better of it.

"Wh-whiskey," Harry stuttered to the Muggle. With impressive dexterity, the bartender whipped a bottle of whiskey out and a glass.

"Thank you," Harry said and obdurately saluted the older man with the glass and sipped at the drink. After his first sip, he nonchalantly set the glass down on the bar and sucked in a breath like he was going to sigh. The liquid tasted like hot lava mixed with rotten molasses mixed with death. Harry felt like he needed to whip out his wand and release his stag upon the atrocity.

He drank the rest of the glass in one gulp.

"Another," he hoarsely told the bartender when slamming his empty glass down.

Across the room, three boys made their way to a booth. One of them piped up to another, "Careful with these bints. According to Adrian, their delightfully vicious. Hope a cub like you can handle it."

The third put in his two knuts. "Don't get frightened by their animalistic tendencies. If they knock you to the ground and rut on you, it's just the way they shake hands."

Dean Thomas frowned at Draco and Theo, quirked a brow, and then a flash of buttery skin and sparkle caught his eye.

"Hey, Beautiful," he called out to the woman scantily clad in a shimmering bikini who turned towards them and flashed them a pleased grin.

"Yes?" she asked and licked her glossy lips hungrily and placed her hands on the table and stuck out her money making assets.

"Give me three whiskeys and uh…" Dean bared his teeth in a devilish grin, his eyes raking up and down her form. "Three of you."

The woman smirked sultrily at him and batted her lashes. "I'll see what I can do, and then…_you'll_ see what I can do."

She walked away with a swing of her hips and Draco and Theo goggled at the Gryffindor between them.

"Wh…" said Theo.

"H-H-" said Draco.

Dean gave a self-pleased chuckle and leaned back in the cushioned seat, getting himself comfortable and explained, "Don't overthink the approach. I'm not sure what Adrian has told you about Muggle women, but it's all about the approach. Take that woman over there for example." He pointed with over to a corner with his chin at the pretty, young thing with bright pink hair. "She's here for a good time, but she's not here to entertain."

"She's dressed like the entertainers," Draco said, confusion wrinkling his brow. "How can you tell?"

"How can you tell a Slytherin chit from a Hufflepuff chit?" Dean asked and playfully nudged Draco in the bicep with his shoulder. "Huh? Right? You know what I'm talking about. You see, the girls at our school dress the same with exception of certain color schemes and all that rubbish. I'll give you an idea. Take Hannah Abbot and Pansy Parkinson and dress them in the same exact clothes. How are you going to be able to tell the difference between Houses?"

"Well, that's easy," Theo said a confident nod.

"How so?" challenged Dean.

"Well, Pansy walks different and has different-" Draco was saying before being cut off by Dean.

"Exactly. Body language. The thing about women, and not just Muggles, but all women, is they have different body language. The girl over there in the corner is not looking for an extra Euro. See her scanning the crowd. She's playing the field."

"Playing the field?" Draco questioned. "What does that mean?"

"It means she's looking for a shag. Hey, Theo." Dean nudged the boy next to him and waggled his eyebrows at the frowning Slytherin. "Wanna be the one to show her a good time?"

"I don't like pink hair," he said sullenly. "It's distracting."

"How about you, Draco? Fancy a little bright magenta hitting the pillow?"

"No."

"She's fit. Why not? Is the hair a bit much? You're not one to talk."

"I like br-"

"Ah. You have a type. I respect that." Dean grinned cheekily and looked at Theo. "You, too, mate?"

"Yeah."

"Right then. Let's get crackin' with finding you two some birds to warm your beds for the night? Me? I'm not so picky. _Girl_ is my type. Blonde, brunette, ginger, and raven-haired. Doesn't matter as long as she's fit and willing."

Draco gave him a dubious look. "You speak like you have experience with a lot of girls. I mean really. What does a cub like you know about the female species?"

Dean grinned smugly. "I do know girls. I'm confident enough to admit that I am the Gryffindor God of Sex. It would amaze you how many girls I've pleased."

"I've pleased a lot girls," Draco said hotly.

"Me, too," Theo added.

"You've bedded a lot of Pureblood girls. Am I right? I'd be more impressed if there were loads of them about, but there isn't. Like I said, I'm not picky. And it would do you both good to not be so picky, so I ask again. How much do you like pink?"

"I'm quite partial to brunettes actually," Theo said, his eyes drifting through the crowd.

To be continued...


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have favorited the fic!

Thank you to: **alannalove1990, amama123, and TheMargoRothSpiegelman** for the reviews.

I now present Chapter 30! R&R! So sorry for any mistakes.

* * *

Five refills later, Harry was laying his head on his forearm and thinking of Ginny and her besotting ginger hair that would sway and lull him into a trance. With a heavy, sullen groan, he raised his head, unknowing of the red imprint left behind on his forehead. He pulled off his glasses and massaged his eyes before slipping them back on and turning his head to find a girl sitting beside him. She looked fuzzy and knackered, for she was resting her head in the palm of her hand while licking at a cherry with a half-empty, fruity looking drink in front of her, holding the stem with her other hand. Her hair was dark brown and sleek, brushing the tops of her shoulder blades. She was wearing an emerald green party dress that clung to a decent looking figure.

Mesmerized, he watched her abuse that cherry until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned towards the person trying to get his attention. His eyelids fluttered a few times before the fuzzy glow disappeared and Malfoy and Nott were standing there with slacken, flushed expressions.

"Yeah?" slurred Harry and pointed to his empty glass while making eye contact with the bartender.

"Granger," they said heavily in unison.

"There you are, you two," said one of two girls who both sauntered up beside the boys. The girls were twins and obviously, from their apparel, entertainers. They were pretty and had springy curly hair the color of milk chocolate. Both boys exhaled like they were excepting death and were led away by the ties of their shirts.

A deep, tortured sob made Harry turn to face the girl again. He watched with a frown as her shoulder blades stuttered underneath the straps of material. The fruity drink was gone, and she was crying into her martini glass while stirring the liquid with the pick. After stirring for about ten seconds, she shoved the stick between her teeth and chomped sorrowfully on her olive before gripping the stem of her glass and downing the drink in one gulp. When finished, she set the glass back down and politely but wetly asked the bartender for another vodka martini sans the martini. The man suggested that she make another choice of something not as harsh.

"Just give me the drink!" she screeched and was vastly served a chilled bottle of Smirnoff and a glass. She knocked over the glass and uncaringly ignored it as it rolled of the bar and shattered onto the floor. Dodging the disgruntled expression from the bartender, she plucked the lime from the rim and sucked on it, draining the wedge of fruit of its juices and pulp before tossing the rind and downing a third of the bottle in the space of five seconds.

Tears dropped down her cheeks as her chin wobbled, and Harry, being a sucker for fair maidens in peril, spoke up. "Are you okay?"

"No!"

"I'm sorry. Do you…Do you want to talk about it?"

The girl whipped her head towards him with a snarl which dissolved rather quickly.

"Potter?" she hiccupped. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," he informed and squint his eyes to see who the girl was. "Greengrass. Daphne, right?"

"Adrian invited you? Why?"

"He said…but I really don't know. Do you want to tell me why you're crying? You don't have to but-"

"Why doesn't he love me?" she wailed and then took another swig of her drink.

"Who?" asked Harry.

"Theo!"

"Uh…well…I…"

"He'll sleep with me, but he won't date me!"

In Harry's drunken haze, he remembered Nott kissing Hermione in the library which had been followed by a pummeling of epic proportion.

"Maybe he likes someone else."

"You think I don't know that?! You think I'm blind, is that it?! Everyone thinks I'm imprudent and oblivious to reality! Well, I'm not! They just say that because I sleep around. Merlin forbid there be a brilliant slag! I probably have better grades than you, Potter!"

"I'm…sorry?"

Sniffling with a morose smile, Daphne continued, "I know he fancies Granger. He has for a long time. I've seen the way he looks at her. He's never once looked at me like that. Not even when we shag. He hasn't even tried to touch me this year. It's like I don't even pop up on his radar. I thought he'd rather be a horny hopeless sap until Granger gave in, but you saw what he just did. He's gone off to shag a lookalike. He's not even bothering with me."

"Maybe you should try to stop loving him," suggest Harry and instantly regretted it and winced at his own futility.

"Have you stopped loving the Weasley girl?"

Harry stared into his half-empty glass. "No."

"You see what I mean," she tiredly said and sipped at her bottle with less gusto than she had prior. "Do you want to tell me what happened between you two? Everyone at school is dying to know what happened to the Golden Couple? I even heard that the Ravenclaw Duo, Patil and Edgecomb are collaborating in writing a tragic play based off of the separation. They lack detail, though."

"So you want to provide such information?" Harry asked with disgust, and Daphne shrugged, completely unashamed of her aloofness.

"I'm sure it would be refreshing to console in someone besides Granger."

"Hermione is not my only friend," Harry said, his frown deepening at his complete lack of honesty.

"Well, I know that you and Weasley aren't talking because of what happened between you and his sister. Do you share heartfelt emotions with Longbottom? Do you brush each other's horribly kept hair and whisper to each other in the dark of night how horrible it is to be orphans?"

"Now see here-"

"I put my entire feelings out there to a Half-blood Gryffindor, and I all I ask for is a little bit of honesty in return."

"You would just use it against me! You've got the biggest mouth in school! And half the time, it's not even for blabbering!"

"And what's to say that you won't use what I said against me?"

"Barkeep, I need another!" Harry pointed to his empty glass with an angry look as if mentally shouting at the bartender for not keeping his drink at the ready while in the company of a female. The man should bloody know better!

He drained the glass in an instant and said to the man. "Keep them coming. I don't want my glass to ever be empty."

He turned back to Daphne who was licking at the last droplets of her vodka.

"Another," she croaked to the man, and he tossed them worried looks before complying with their requests.

"I'm a Gryffindor," Harry stated, replying to Daphne's question.

"And what is that supposed to mean? That you're brave? That you're kind? That you're a good bloke? You know, Potter, there was pool going on in our Fifth Year in the Slytherin House, after the whole Dark Lord nearly returning to say hello. A bet, if you will. The thing was, there was no winner or loser. Just a bunch of speculations bouncing about the dungeons. Many of us believed that you got Sorted wrong. I was one of those believers. Still am. True, you have the criteria for a noble lion, but you are not much different from the vipers."

"I think you're drunk."

"I think," Daphne grinned, her full, swollen lips stretching across her face playfully. "That…" She leaned way over and brushed her mouth against his followed by a nip to his bottom lip. "I want you to speak to me in Parseltongue all night long."

* * *

"Where are we?" Harry mumbled into Daphne's neck while she was tugging at his tie, trying to undo the knot. Back at the bar in the club, she had gripped his shirt and dragged him outside into the alley where he the feeling of being transported by Portkey shook his navel.

He separated his mouth from her jugular and looked around. They were standing in the middle of a very large and extravagant sitting room surrounded by portraits of scandalized looking individuals.

"My parents' summer home," slurred Daphne while slipping the tie off his shirt. She then stepped away and giggled and slipped off her heels, turning around, and scampering off.

"Can't catch me!" she playfully yelled back at him.

With a droopy smile, Harry watched Daphne run in a zigzag formation before disappearing around the corner. His bones and muscles of his legs heavy from the alcohol, he lamely staggered after her. When he rounded the corner, he was greeted with a grand, curved staircase and wondered how she got up those in her drunken state and then wondered how he was supposed to climb them in his.

Harry gripped the railing and followed after her. He came to the top step and found Daphne's dress discarded there. He went to pick it up but heard an echo of giggles coming from the hallway to his right. Forgetting the dress, he wobbled towards another curious thing: a black satin brassier. His eyes widening, he passed that because he saw something else further down the hallway: matching black satin knickers that were dwelling in the threshold of an open doorway. He tore his eyes away from the scrap of cloth and there was Daphne splayed out on a large, comfortable looking bed wearing nothing but a drowsy smile.

"Why are your clothes still on?"

* * *

Hermione sucked in a deep breath through her nose and opened her eyes and was greeted with unfamiliar, dim lit surroundings. Yawning, she sat up and brought her bandaged hand to cover her tender mouth and remembered where she was. A flush of embarrassment stung her cheeks and quietly slid off the bed and searched for her shoes. Once finding them, she slipped them on and tiptoed around the bed as to not to dsturb the boy sleeping there and carefully parted the curtains to see how far the day was into the morning. She looked up at the brightly lit sky and checked her watch.

It was nearly eleven back in Scotland.

She quietly opened the door and left the room and ventured down the hallway and towards the club area. Broken glass, confetti, clothes, and underdressed people littered the floor, booths, and couches.

"Harry?" she whispered, hoping and dreading that he would pop up his messy head from amongst the debris.

No one stirred and she chanced going deeper into the room in hopes of finding him. He couldn't have gone far.

Being mindful as to not step on people or the broken glass, she weaved through the bodies in search of her friend and came up empty handed with an aggravated exhale of breath. Her eyes then caught a familiar face in the far corner and blinked surprise. She went over to him and lightly patted his cheek due to his shoulders being occupied by scantily clad girls.

"Dean," she whispered. "Wake up."

Smacking his lips, Dean moaned, "Five more minutes, Mum."

"Dean." Hermione raised her voice and patted his cheek harder. "Wake up this instant."

Frowning deeply, obviously irritated by the persistence of the person trying to wake him up, he opened his eyes and glared which was short-lived when he realized who was bothering him.

"Hermione?" He brushed off the ladies from his shoulders and stood to his feet with a pained groan. He clutched his head. "What are you doing here? And would you happen to have some Pepper Up for a poor, hungover bloke?"

"I'm sorry, I don't. And I could I ask you the same question, Dean Thomas." Hermione planted her hands on her hips and gave him an inquiring look.

"What? If I have Pepper Up? You're hungover, too?"

"No, what are you doing here? Were you invited?"

Looking sheepish, Dean informed her with a vague shrug, "I came here with Malfoy."

Alarmed, Hermione arched her eyebrows and sort of smiled. "Really? I find that hard to believe."

"He invited me. He's not so bad, you know. Monday, he was sitting by me in Muggle Studies, right. He was asking around if he knew a good tutor for the class because he was falling behind. I offered to help him, and I've been helping him with his studies daily. On Friday, he told me I could tag along to this party, and boy, what a hell of a party! You wouldn't believe the things I got to do last night into early this morning! There was this girl who could-"

"I really don't-"

"And there was this other girl who could-"

"Dean, really. Ple-"

"And together, they could-"

"Have you seen Harry? Well, I mean…I know you haven't seen him now, but he was here last night."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I saw him at the bar last night. I was going to go over and chat with him and ask how he was doing. He's been like a recluse since the breakup with Ginny. I got distracted, though, by the girls."

"Damn him," seethed Hermione and tapped her foot impatiently. "He was drinking. I need to find him. I need to make sure he's okay."

"He's a grown boy, Hermione," chuckled Dean.

"Says the grown boy who is talking to me completely starkers and totally unaware."

Dean's eyes popped down and his hands flew to his private bits, and he chuckled nervously. "Some party, huh?"

Hermione tossed her hands up into the air with a huff.

"Hey, Sweetheart, why don't we just catch a Portkey back to school, yeah? I'm sure Harry will show up before you know it. Maybe he found himself a lady friend to chat with?" urged Dean with a comforting smile. "I've got to find my clothes, and we can be on our way."

Hermione waited by the door from where she and Harry arrived by. Ten minutes later, Dean was ready. By the door, there was a table with different assortments strewn across: little trinkets. Hermione picked up a shot glass that was much similar to Harry's Portkey.

"_Portus,_" she said while pointing her wand at the glass and turned to Dean. "Ready?"

They stepped outside and Dean groaned and shielded his eyes with his hands. "Bloody mother fu-"

Hermione gripped the glass and touched it to Dean's arm, both feeling the whirlwind. When they landed on the Apparition Grounds by Hogwarts, he dropped to his knees and vomited onto the grass.

"Are you okay?" asked Hermione.

"Give me a minute," he coughed, chunks of vomit spraying out of his mouth. After a few moments, his regurgitation seized, and he was able to stand up on shaky legs.

"I don't know why I stuck around to see that," Hermione said.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers and those have favorited this fic!

Thank you to: **Story Crazy, alannalove1990, and amama123** for the reviews.

To **all my readers who are wondering**: Draco and Theo will be back to fighting over Hermione again soon, but all of this stuff that I'm putting in before those chapters is important, too and will have impact on the ending.

Now I present Chapter 31! Hope it is enjoyable! R&R, please! And sorry for any mistakes.

* * *

Thirty or so minutes after Hermione and Dean departed from Apparition Grounds, another duo arrived. Theo and Draco groaned and collapsed in a heap onto the grass, both motionless and sweaty.

"I don't feel very well," Malfoy whimpered. "I think I did too many body shots off of Cassie."

"Katya," Theo corrected in a wheeze. "That was her name."

"Was it? I could've sworn it was Cassie."

"It wasn't. Her twin was Cassie."

"How do know this?"

"Because after you passed out after one shag like a pathetic lightweight, I shagged them both."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"I asked, okay. I actually like to know the name of the girls I have intercourse with. Now the last names…that's a different story. Help me up, would you?"

"I can't get up."

"Neither can I."

"We could just lay here until we can."

"But what if someone Apparates or Portkeys on us?"

"Good point."

Simultaneously, the two boys moved onto their stomachs and lifted themselves up onto their feet, using each other as a support. Once they found a balance, the staggered towards the castle.

"That was a good party," Draco commented. "Phew! Pucey sure does know how to throw them, doesn't he?! And he and Dean were right about the Muggle Women."

"Yeah. Reckon Granger knows how to do that kind of stuff on a pole and between the sheets?" Theo outwardly wondered.

"I let you know when I find out." Draco chuckled giddily, and Theo pushed him away and unfortunately, that section of the grass merged into a downward slope, and Draco teetered just a little too far and rolled down the small hill.

"Ruddy wanker!" Draco bemoaned loudly when he came to a stop, his voice echoing throughout half of the Hogwarts property.

Theo snorted and peered over the edge of the slope to make sure his mate wasn't hurt too badly. He still needed that Best Man since Blaise was acting like a self-righteous prick.

"Are you okay?" Theo violently guffawed, the motion making him loose enough equilibrium for him his footing to slip on the wet grass and tumble down the slope.

"Oh, hell," muttered Draco when seeing his yelping friend roll down to meet him.

And that was how Theo broke his wrist and Draco broke his nose for the second time in seven years.

Oh, and both their wands snapped on impact.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore gazed quizzically over his half-moon glasses, his long fingers connecting together to form a pyramid while his elbows were propped on his desk. In the middle of his desk, two splintered wands were perched parallel to each other. Those two unusable sticks of wood were acting as a midway for him and the two battered boys on the opposite side of the desk.

"Pardon?" His wispy, white eyebrow arched halfway up his forehead in inquiry.

"We fell," Draco said complacently with a damp cloth, that was charmed to be chilled, draping over his nose to slow the swelling and soak the blood.

Theo nodded solemnly, his left wrist snuggled closely to his chest.

"You fell," the Headmaster stated with a slight nod and stroked his beard pensively. "Tis a shame for both of you to have fallen down the hill, my dear boys. It is unfortunate that you are both injured with broken bones and concussions and are lucky that Professor Vector was out on her midday stroll and spotted you. Furthermore, I deem it necessary that Madam Pomfrey tends to you as soon as possible. I imagine that the two of you are having a spot of pain."

The boys stood up to leave, and Dumbledore raised a single, spindly finger. "However," he said, the boys taking the hint to sit back down with a groan. "I have received word from you Head of House that you were unaccounted for last night and this morning."

The office doors opened and Severus Snape stalked in with a reproving frown directed at his students.

"But-" Draco tried, but Snape grabbed his shoulder to silence him. He sunk back into the chair with a chagrinned expression.

"Indeed, you, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott are both of age to leave the castle on Friday nights and Saturday nights without the consent of a parent; however, in the new student handbook, the regulations have been changed and is necessary to notify your Head of House or me when you do. It is merely a safety precaution. I want all my students to be safe and know their specific whereabouts at all times. And you may think this is unfair, but the student handbook is there for you, so you can live by the schools expectations and thrive in the world of adulthood. It is most likely you, dear boys, did not know about this subtle change, but I cannot discard such behavior and immaturity. I do believe there are details to which have not been shared concerning the conditions that you and your wands are in, so a Floo call was made."

"To Ollivander's," Draco piped up hopefully, and Dumbledore gave him a rueful grin as Snape scoffed. Theo threw him a dirty look, asking with his eyes if his friend was really that thick.

"To your parents," replied the Headmaster, his eyes twinkling and then swiveling to Theo. "Due to your father's…unexpected death last December, only the one Floo call to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy was all that was needed, for they are your Godparents. I suspect their arrival will be any-" A green gust of flames ignited in the fireplace located behind Dumbledore's chair. Without turning to greet his guest, he continued, "Second."

Scooting back his chair, Dumbledore stood up and turned to face Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, who were dusting soot off of their plush robes. Narcissa paused mid-brush and zeroed her eyes passed the Headmaster and onto Draco and then Theo. A high-pitched gasp tumbled out of her lips as she clutched the brooch holding her cloak in place and darted towards them.

"My boys!" She stood between Draco and Theo's chairs, petting at the blonde and brown heads with motherly affection. "What happened to you both?! You're all bruised, Sweethearts! Oh, Draco, your nose is broken, again. Theo, what in Merlin's name happened to your wrist? The bones are sticking out! Why haven't you been sent to the Hospital Wing?!"

"What is the meaning of the dire Floo call I received, Albus?" Lucius asked in crisply while shirking his dragon, leather gloves. "Severus was rather vague, and I had a meeting with the Minister that had to be cancelled."

"Were you not listening, Lucius? The boys are hurt!" Narcissa shrilled while awkwardly grabbing both boys around the shoulders and pulling them into her. They both groaned in pain. "Oh, I'm sorry." She then sniffed their heads and wrinkled her nose and then let go of them. "You boys smell…funny."

Lucius quirked an eyebrow at that and met gazes with Dumbledore and then with Snape. "Do they?"

He strode over to both shifty looking boys and inhaled, gently recoiling with a sneer. "I dare say I believe they have been drinking. And from the conditions they are representing themselves in, I believe they got hurt from the instability. Is this why you Floo-ed, Severus?"

"Yes," he answered blankly. "Among other reasons."

"Truly?" questioned Lucius and gazed at Dumbledore his frowning wife who was staring at the boys with great scrutiny. "What else have they done?"

"Lucius, they are covered in sparkles," she said while brushing the sides of the Theo's cheek with a gloved hand and bringing her fingers close to her narrowed eyes. "Why are they covered in sparkles?"

"Every night, I make sure every Slytherin student is accounted for and report to Albus as does all the other Head of Houses do. Last evening, Young Mr. Nott and Young Mr. Malfoy were nowhere to be seen. Yes, they are of age and do have rights to leave the Hogwarts property, but they must inform me or the Headmaster of their whereabouts. It is a new policy to ensure the safety of students. 'Twas mentioned in the new student handbook and in the Opening Ceremony."

"Where were you boys?" asked Lucius in tone full of parental authority. The boys said nothing making him bare his teeth.

"I asked you a question, and I expect an answer or else I will be given no choice but to-"

"I will handle this, Lucius," Narcissa calmly said with a smile directed at Draco and Theo, who both lost all of their facial color. "Sweetheart, Albus, and Severus, if I could be alone with the boys for a just a few minutes, I'm sure everything will be straightened and out the next few minutes."

_A few minutes later..._

Narcissa stepped out of the office with frowning, pursed lips and cold eyes. She exhaled deeply and shook her head in disappointment. "They were invited to a party that was out of the country. They travelled by Portkey last night and returned before noon today."

"Who was hosting the party? Another student?" asked Dumbledore and Narcissa pressed her lips together tightly.

"No, and I will not divulge any more information. What occurred last night and this morning will have no ill effect on their educational status with the exception of leaving without notification. They have received their parental punishment, but I understand, Albus and Severus, if you wish to bestow detention and the taking away of House points."

"As we will," Dumbledore solemnly nodded.

"As for their wands…" Narcissa said. "Are they reparable?"

"Their wands?" Lucius hissed. "They're broken?"

Ignoring him, Dumbledore answered Narcissa. "I regret to inform, but yes. I can have them repaired by the evening, nonetheless, but I'm not entirely positive I want to be so hasty in returning them to their owners. They were rather careless, were they not?"

"I think that's a little harsh," Lucius chuckled dryly, his eyes narrowing at the prospect of his son going without magic for a period of time.

"They were broken on school property, so I will assume punishment for their actions. I think a temporary suspension from magic will do them some good."

"How long are you thinking?" asked Narcissa. "Won't the lack of their wands influence their schooling?"

"I will let their teachers know of their punishment, and they will see to it the boys can maintain their grades. They're smart boys, Narcissa. I do not want to watch their academics suffer for a simple act of teenage stupidity. Nonetheless, they must be disciplined. Now, if you three will excuse me," he said while opening the office door and leading the other adults inside. "I will send the boys to the Infirmary, for Young Mr. Malfoy and Young Mr. Nott are not the only ones who the school missed last night."

Draco and Theo stood up without a word and shuffled out of the office with downtrodden expressions, their eyes on their feet. As they passed adults, Narcissa leaned in a brushed a kiss on each of their foreheads and gave them meaningful looks of that spoke volumes, mentally demanding they best behave. With Draco, though, she also leaned in and whispered something into his ear causing him to stumble backwards in horror, eventually resuming his walk down the spiral staircase, following Theo.

Once Lucius and Narcissa were readying themselves to Floo back home, green flames ignited the Floo once again and out stepped Sirius Black.

Narcissa gasped out in shock. "Sirius!"

Sirius, who had been straightening his collar, paused and looked up at his cousin he had not seen in years and smirked. "Cissa, what a surprise. You look well."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eye lids fluttering rapidly in confusion and then glared at him and repeated, "_What are you doing here?"_

"Still angry about the wedding, are you? Come now, Cousin. All that hate and vengefulness is making you look…old." Sirius caught eyes with Lucius and received a loathsome glare, watching the man finger the silver headed snake housing his wand with a look of utter distaste. He then tore his gaze from him and settled it on a furious Severus and smiled wickedly in return.

Professor McGonagall rushing inside the office while clutching at robes, breathing heavily. "I still haven't received word of Mr. Potter's whereabouts, Albus. I talked to Miss Granger, and she is going mad with worry. She says she has not spoken or seen him since last night. Oh, Sirius! You're here. We've looked everywhere for Harry and haven't found him. I asked Ginevra and Ronald Weasley and Floo-ed their parents, and they don't know where he is!"

Lucius raised an interested brow and drawled, "Harry Potter had gone missing? What a mystery this will be. Wait until _The Daily Prophet_ hears about this."

"Darling," Narcissa warned, still frowning at Sirius from earlier comment. "There is no need to get the media involved in such a thing nor is any of this our business. Perhaps we should go home and let Sirius and Albus sort this out."

Dumbledore, who had been stroking his beard, gently raised a finger. "I wonder, Narcissa, about a few things. It appears that in the past twenty-four hours, Hogwarts has had a case of absent students, though some of them did have permission. What say you, Severus? You reported to me who did and who did not acquire permission or notification to leave the property last night as did you Minerva. Kindly tell me, Severus, of those from your House that has yet to return."

"Daphne Greengrass has yet to return to school. Her younger sister returned earlier this morning and is becoming a nuisance, yammering about and wanting to know where she is. I tried to Floo their parents, but they are unreachable at this time. I contacted their grandparents, and they don't even know what year it is. However, Daphne did notify me of her leaving last night. Though I am concerned that she has yet to come back to Hogwarts, we cannot rule that she is missing."

"Are there any others that have not reported their return to you?" asked Dumbledore.

"No. Miss Greengrass is the only one."

"And you, Minerva. You had students disappear last night, as well."

"Three of them." McGonagall nodded. "One of them did tell me that she was leaving for the night, and that was Miss Granger. From what she has claimed, she and Mr. Potter left by Portkey last night. When she returned this morning, she returned with Mr. Thomas. He, too, did not give me notification of his leaving and was reported to me by Madam Pomfrey when he dropped by the Hospital Wing for a vial of Pepper Up Potion. According to Poppy, he was covered in sparkles and hungover."

"The plot thickens." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in curiosity. "But I do see a pattern. Mrs. Malfoy, I understand that you want to keep things hush, hush. However, we have one maybe two missing students on our hands, and I do believe that they were all at the same place last night."

"Harry would never fraternize with Slytherins, Albus," Sirius claimed with pride. "He knows better than that."

"Nevertheless, Sirius, we do not have any other leads concerning your Godson. Now if you please, Narcissa."

Narcissa was a bit reluctant and more than a tad embarrassed, a flush pinking up the paleness of her cheeks.

"From what I gathered from Draco and Theo," she said. "Was that they had been invited to a party last night out of the country. Muggle Amsterdam is where the celebration was being held."

Only Sirius and Severus balked and broke into a coughing fit. In unison, they pounded on their chests with a balled up fists, both receiving peculiar looks.

"Oh my…" wheezed Sirius and then a leer stretched over his face. "I bet they had fun."

"Is it an entertaining place?" asked Lucius asked. "I have travelled to Magical Amsterdam, and it is a lovely place. Is the Muggle version equally adequate?

"I think I will assist Poppy with the boys," offered Severus. "She may not know to cast…_certain_ Charms. Thinking about it, maybe we should find Mr. Thomas, as well."

"I think," sighed Narcissa while tiredly rubbing her forehead. "That would be an excellent idea. Thank you, Severus, I didn't even think of that."

"Think of what, Darling?" Lucius inquired.

"We want our boys clean, Lucius, of any ailment that they may have attained."

"I agree," Sirius said darkly. "We don't know where those boys have been specifically and what they tampered with…and who they will tamper with next." His frowned deepened before continuing. "You said that Miss Granger may have been at the party, too?"

"Well, from what I understand and from what she told me, she was," clarified McGonagall. "But aside from a bandage on her hand and in a state of dishevelment, she was fine."

"We will find Harry," comforted Albus. "Let's not bother Miss Granger at this time."

"I am worried about Harry, but I also am worried about Hermione. If there were…_boys_ at the party like Lucius' son and that Nott's bastard-"

"Now see here, Black," spat Lucius who took a step forward in Sirius' direction.

"That was unnecessary, Sirius," Narcissa calmly pointed out but through gritted teeth. "They both are good boys, and…no offence to Miss Granger, but she is not their type."

"Like Teddy Tonks wasn't Andromeda's type? For Merlin's Sake, Narcissa, the party was in Muggle Amsterdam, and they willingly went! Do you really think Blood Status means anything to Pureblood boys when they see a pretty girl? It meant nothing to me; that was for sure! But I think I should have a talking to with Miss Granger."

* * *

Light could be seen beneath the thick, velvet looking curtain indicating to him that it was well into the morning. Harry lay awake in bed and had been for at least ten minutes. His mouth was dry, his head was pounding, and he very much wanted to vomit. Carefully and without much ruckus, he climbed off the bed and padded into the adjoining loo, grabbing his wand on the nightstand. There, he emptied the contents of his stomach until he could no longer it hurt. He stood up from the flushing toilet and went over to the sink and washed his face with icy cold water, letting the droplets run through his mussed hair. With cupped hands, he drank gulps of the water until the nausea subsided and then turned his wand on himself to cast a Drying Charm, then into his mouth to cast a Cleaning and Freshening Charm.

When he walked back into the bedroom, he slipped beneath the covers of the bed once more, the girl beside him shifting closer to his body in her sleep until her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, and her hand was on his chest.

Harry looked down at Daphne and only one thought crossed his mind.

_I had sex!_

After a few minutes in order to grasp acceptance that he was no longer a virgin, Harry went on to the next though.

_I had sex with someone who was not Ginny!_

The acceptance process took longer for that. To Harry, sleeping with Daphne instead of Ginny was like waiting for a brand new restaurant to open and anticipating what would sure be fantastic meals and then seeing the establishment burn down opening day. It was disappointing, yes, but Harry had never got a meal there so…Shrug! He went to the restaurant next door to where he had never been, but hey! A lot people have!

And then the '_What the hell?!' _part ricocheted about in his mind.

Daphne shifted again in her sleep, tearing him away from his jumbled horrification. He gazed at her and thought she looked like a mess. Oh, she was still pretty. Smeared makeup and raccoon eyes were not going to change what was incredibly obvious.

She moaned in her sleep and the hand on his chest began to caress his skin and rub its way downward underneath the sheets.

"Daph-NEE!" he yelped and jolted in surprise when her hand found its destination. Her blue eyes opened and swollen lips split into a wicked smirk.

"You feel happy to see me," she said and rolled on top of him into a straddling position.

Harry gulped and laid his hands flat against the pillow behind him, not trusting them while naked Daphne sat on top of him.

"Why so shy, Potter?" she cooed and leaned down brushed her lips against his chin and then took the skin into her mouth with a nibble, her mouth drifting upwards to tease his bottom lip with playful swipe of her tongue.

"Uh…Daphne?"

"Potter."

"W-we made a mistake last night," Harry winced out, positive that this was going to end badly.

Daphne chuckled against his lips and brushed her nose with his. "People make mistakes all the time, Potter, but who says they can't make them again?"

"But, Daphne-" Harry whimpered when she latched onto his neck and started sucking. He refrained from moaning but couldn't help hissing in pleasure.

"You were so naughty to me last night, shouting at me in Parseltongue. I had no idea what you were saying, but I loved it. Do it again! Tell me to do something, and I'll try to guess what it is."

"Er…" Harry noised while Daphne looked expectantly, heavily coated with mischievousness. Sighing in resignation, he stared at her double-headed snake bracelet.

"Get off of me," he told her in Parseltongue. "Shower and get dressed, so we can return to school."

She throatily giggled and then squealed in delight, biting her lip like she was trying to decipher what he just said.

"Potter, You Nasty Lion! You want it again?! Well, if you say so…" Daphne shrugged innocently and slithered down Harry with such predatory speed, he wasn't even sure what she meant until it was too late.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: I'm sorry to say this chapter is not as long as my others, but it fell this way. Anyway, to all my readers, enjoy the chapter! R&R, please!

Snape escorted Draco and Theo to the Slytherin Common Room all the while explaining to them of their punishment.

"The Headmaster has deducted one hundred house points from Slytherin, and the both of you will have a temporary suspension of magical use. Your other professors have been briefed and are willing to negotiate, so your grades remain steady. You will have detention with me or by someone that I have assigned to watch over you for the next thirty days. Despite your ages, your Hogsmeade privileges and travelling rights have been taken away for the rest of the semester. Is that clear?"

Draco and Theo glowered at him but nodded.

"Any questions?"

Their glowers turned into snarls, and Snape turned around and smirked at them. "Of course there aren't."

He brought them to the portrait, saying the password, and motioning them to go inside.  
Draco and Theo entered the Common Room, eyes of their fellow classmates glaring at them.

"You lost us a hundred points," Millicent said with both hands on her hips, and all the others murmured in agreement.

In silence, the two boys walked silently to the Seventh Year Dormitory and were relieved to find it empty save for Blaise who was lounging on his bed, reading a book.

"This _Princess Bride_ isn't half bad, Draco. You were right." He closed the book and set it aside on his desk. "So how was the party? Was Pucey utterly heartbroken that I failed to show my pretty arse to everyone? Did you explain to him that I was in a…commitment of sorts? Ginny said I couldn't go. Oh, and by the way, everyone wants to kill you two for making Slytherin lose a shite load of House points. I was going to help them, but I got busy. The She-Weasel and _The Princess Bride_ sidetracked me. Which reminds me, I have yet to tell you about how me and her…yeah. Just not right now. I want to know all about the party and spare no details."

Draco and Theo stared blankly at Blaise, blinking in unison.

"Well…" Blaise urged. "Were the Muggle women delectable?"

"…"

"Why aren't you talking?"

Draco slumped his shoulders, and Theo rolled his eyes.

"You've been Silenced!" gaped Blaise and then burst out laughing. "Who Silenced you?"

Draco shuffled over to his desk and opened the top drawer on the right and picked up framed photograph and held it up an inch from his friend's face.

"Your mother?" Blaise took a step back and smirked. "She was called, wasn't she? Her naughty boys got into a spot of trouble and needed a good spanking. I see. Shame. I really wanted to know all the tidbits of the party. Adrian sure knows how to throw them."

Draco and Theo nodded, but the latter paused mid-bob and a funny expression filtered across his features.

"What?" asked Blaise while Theo went to his desk and started scribbling on some parchment and then handed it to Blaise.

"'Saw Pucey for a few minutes and then he disappeared. Didn't see him for the rest of the night,'" Blaise recited, who then shrugged and tossed the parchment aside. "So he found a lovely lady. I reckon you did, too."

A reluctant smirk drifted across Theo's lips and he held up two fingers, and Draco rolled his eyes and mouthed the word 'thief' at him.

"Have either of you seen Daphne?" asked Blaise, climbing back onto his bed. Draco and Theo climbed onto theirs and collapsed onto their pillows, both swishing their heads from left to right.

"She left for the party last night, and she hasn't been back yet. Astoria has been driving everyone spare with her worry, and Snape doesn't know if she's missing or not. She has until midnight tonight to show a leg or else…I thought I'd ask. But anyhow, I know you can't answer me, but how do you reckon about wooing Granger when neither of you can talk?"

* * *

Hermione sat in the Headmaster's office, her eyes flicking from Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sirius, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. They all stared at her like she had stolen the secrets of the universe and was refusing to share. Inhaling a small breath, she asked, "Do they all need to be here, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled at her from across his desk, his blue eyes twinkling with adoration and mirth. "No, I don't see why all of them need to be here." He turned to the other adults and spoke gently. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I appreciate your visit, but I must say you are no longer obligated to maintain your presence at Hogwarts. Severus, why not Floo Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass once more?"

Lucius and Narcissa left by Floo, and Snape exited the office with a flailing of his cape causing Sirius to chortle under his breath and mutter 'drama queen'.

"Hermione, do you know why I asked you to come here?" Dumbledore gently spoke while gazing at her over his glasses.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't in particular." She looked over at Sirius and bit her lips. "Is everything alright?"

"We want to know, Miss Granger, when was the last time you saw Mr. Potter," said McGonagall.

"Harry?" Hermione whipped her head back to Dumbledore and then to Sirius. "He's not back yet?"

"Alas, no." Dumbledore clasped his hands together.

"Do you know where he is, Hermione?" asked Sirius.

She frowned at him and a painful stab of guilt ebbed at her because her duty the previous night was to keep a careful eye on him. Regretfully, she shook her head again. "I'm not sure. The last time I saw him was when we arrived at the party last night. We went together, and right when we got there, we were separated. I talked to Dean Thomas this morning, and he told me that he saw Harry a-at the…bar. I'm sorry that I don't know more. I should. He's my friend, and I left him alone, but I was hurt. A chunk of glass was imbedded into my hand upon arrival at the party, and I needed to get it out."

Tears prickled her eyes and shame colored her cheeks, and Sirius came beside her and patted her on the shoulder. "It's alright. I'm sure Harry's fine. He'll just get a firm talking to when I see him again. I just want to know where he is at all times. I didn't even know he was going to a party. I didn't even know he'd want to go to a party with…_other kinds_ of students. But tell me, Sweetheart, what did _you_ do last night besides get your hand fixed?"

The flush returned and she clamped her jaw shut, distrusting her tongue for a moment. When she was able to gather her wits, she calmly said, "I fell asleep. The host of the party gave me a first aid kit which I tended my wound with. To fight infection, I drank White Blood Replenishing Potion which causes drowsiness. Deciding that the party would have to go on without me and that I was too exhausted to Portkey back, I Charmed the door locked to the room I was in. I fell asleep. The next morning, I went in search for Harry but found Dean instead. Although I wanted to stay and find Harry, I do wonder if he had found a…"

"Yes, Miss Granger," McGonagall urged and Hermione grimaced.

"I understand," Sirius said with a knowing smirk. "Perfectly, actually. And may I say I hope that's the case. I'm sure Harry will be along then. When he does arrive back at school, Headmaster, please alert me. I think my Godson and I need to have a chat."

"Of course, Sirius, of course," Dumbledore gently whispered and then looked at Hermione. "You are free to go, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione said and hastily left the office.

Sirius quirked a brow at Dumbledore. "You know she was lying, right?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded somberly and picked up a dish of sweets that was placed beside him and offered it to Sirius. "Lemon drop?"

* * *

"I said a shower," Harry sighed tiredly.

"But this is more fun," clipped Daphne. "And it's so much more relaxing."

Underneath the bubbles in her tub that could have easily fit an entire Quidditch team of full grown men, she rubbed her toes up and down his calve muscle and shin. Her hair was wet and her face was clean, and she was molding her front against his side, resting her head on his shoulder like she did earlier.

Harry turned his neck and gazed down at her. Daphne's cheeks were pink and flushed from the hot water. Last night's makeup was off of her and the rings which had encircled her eyes only an hour before were quickly disappearing.

"What?" she smiled circumspectly.

"You're pretty," he told her truthfully. He may not know much about girls: what to do with them, how to talk to them. But he knew they liked to hear compliments.

She tilted her chin up and smiled widened, and Harry could see two patches of skin crater in on both cheeks close to the corners of her mouth. She had the genuine smile of a little girl, and he thought it to be kind of cute. A strange, butterflying sensation tickled inside his stomach, and his heart sped up to hammer against his chest.

"Potter," she whispered, her already flushed cheeks deepening into a crimson hue. "Can I keep you?"

The butterflies in his stomach went wild and fluttered up into his chest to fly around his pounding hear. Merlin, this was barmy. It was too soon. Only eight days ago, he and Ginny were talking and laughing and innocently snogging. He still loved her. She's the girl he was supposed to marry. It was inevitable as it was fate. He and Ron were best friends, and he had a little sister who would grow up and be beautiful and just what Harry always dreamed his future would look like.

Aside from the Cho phase, of course.

"Potter?"

Harry shirked his jumbled brain. Daphne was waiting for an answer with raised eyebrows, and she was stroking with teasing fingers like she knew about the butterflies beneath.

"I'm sorry, Daphne." He ran a hand through his wet hair and pulled away from her and put some distance between them. "It's just too soon, you know? I still love Ginny."

"And I still love Theodore, so what?" She shrugged incredulously. "Who cares who we still want or love? We can't have them. Potter, you're not going to get her back right now, and I know that I may never get him, especially if Granger likes him back. Maybe you were right last night. I should try to stop having feelings for him, and you can take this time away from Weasley and decide if she is what you really want."

"She is," Harry firmly stated.

"We're seventeen years old, Potter. We don't know what we want. All we know is what feels right. For me, it felt right to ask you to come home with me. It feels right to be with you in this tub, and if you didn't feel the same way, you would have declined my offer last night, or even snuck out this morning and gone back to school, told me to stop, anything. But you stayed. You got back in bed, and you stayed."

"Daphne-" Harry tried.

"Be real, Potter." She moved towards him, bubbles gathering around her front. "Weasley and you are over. Perhaps not forever, but for now…I'm here, and you feel right, and I feel right. So what do you say?"


	33. Chapter 33

There were only two more days of September before October would follow. The Scotland air was becoming increasingly chilly, promising an icy fall and a dreadful winter. Hermione snuggled her school books tightly to her chest in hopes of preserving some heat to sustain as she walked the castle hallways and towards the Great Hall where her fellow peers were having breakfast. As she entered, expectedly Ron was not at the table and casting a quick glance at the Slytherin table, Pansy was not there either. Hermione contemplated the idea the two lust birds may contract malnourishment if they did not come up for air and think about other physical needs besides the need to mate.

Placing herself next to Neville, she glanced around to find Harry with a puzzled frown. Why was he not at breakfast? He rarely skipped a meal, and it wasn't a good idea if he did. His medicated potions reacted horribly with his system if he went without a meal. She would merely have to reprimand him later and then she cringed at the idea. Poor Harry had got quite the talking to the night prior when he stumbled through the castle entrance. He had been immediately reported to Professor McGonagall by Filch. McGonagall escorted the boy to Headmaster's office where Dumbledore had made a Floo call to Sirius.

Hermione knew Sirius well. In the past, she had visited the Grimmauld Place often and had many intriguing conversations with him. Over all, he was a decent guardian for Harry. He, unfortunately, was not a particularly decent parent. And really, she felt awful for thinking such a thing, but Harry had broken a few vital rules during the weekend and had only gotten his real punishment from Sirius. From what Hermione heard from a sleepy, flushed Harry when she finally caught him on his way to the Gryffindor Tower for the night, was that he received a horrid kind of sex talk.

"_A sex talk?" Hermione scoffed and tapped her foot impatiently and dodged the scandalized portrait of Mother Mary Maddock a few feet from her. "That was your punishment? A sex talk? That's not punishment, Harry. That is life! Everyone gets one of those!"_

"_Not in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall, Hermione!" Harry defended with a blush. "Sirius completely humiliated me! Can you believe that? And it wasn't the mechanical kind of talk Madam Pomfrey taught us in Fourth Year. It wasn't the vague 'put Object A into Slot B and keep them together until a baby wants out' speech. Sirius' sex talk was not about what to do, Hermione." A queasy, green sheen coated her friend's face, but he valiantly continued on. "His sex talk was about how to do it right. His descriptions were quite vivid. Great Lolly Knickers, Hermione! He went into detail with Dumbledore and McGonagall standing right there. And do want to know what the worst part is?"_

_Having sympathized Harry's situation a little more, Hermione cringed. "It gets worse?"_

"_Is that they didn't even stop him. McGonagall and Dumbledore didn't even tell him to stop. They just sat there and let it all unfold like it didn't matter about how Sirius was lecturing me on how to elongate your female companion's orgasm and always assume girls are lying when they say they are on the Charm, Potion, or Pill. Can you believe that?"_

_Hermione opened her mouth and made some croaky sound before shrugging and then finally saying, "I'm sorry you were humiliated, Harry, but it could have been so much worse."_

"_How? What could possibly worse than that?"_

"_So you were embarrassed in front of couple of faculty members. That's not something to blubber about. It sounds like it was all a big joke and was not to be taken seriously. You didn't really even get in trouble, Harry. Slytherin lost over hundred House points today. Did you know they're ten points away from being zero? Dean stripped our House of thirty points, and he was back to school at a decent hour. You come waltzing into the school five minutes after curfew, your punishment was nothing but bruised pride. You didn't receive a real punishment, Harry. By the school or by Sirius."_

"_So you're saying I'm lucky," Harry said with a sort of grin._

_Hermione jutted out her chin and narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm saying as Head Girl you will serve detention with me in the library every Friday night until further notice."_

"_Hermione, Quidditch practice! Hogsmead trips."_

"_Hogsmeade will always be there and o__ur next game isn't for another month, and you have every other night to get the team together. Be so _lucky_ I didn't take House points from my own house. We're only twenty away from being zero. Hufflepuff is in the lead of all things!_

Hermione turned back to her breakfast and grabbed her spoon, tucking into the piping hot bowl of oatmeal flavored with a hint of brown sugar, cinnamon, and crunchy peanut butter.

Mmmm! It was extra good that day. She licked her spoon clean before shoving it back into the bowl for another go.

Squawks echoed throughout the Great Hall, alerting the student body of the mail. To Hermione's surprise, a package fell in front of her. The glossy and green type of cellophane wrapping glimmered at her enticingly, and Hermione wondered if it was a late birthday present. She went to pick it up, but another package fell on top of it, this one being a shiny silver color.

Groaning a sound of dismay, she placed her elbow on the table and supported her head with her hand, her curled fingers digging into her slack face.

"Hermione, you've got some nice looking packages. Aren't you going to open them?" asked Neville.

"Not now," Hermione grumbled and opened her bag to stuff the presents in them before returning to her oatmeal.

Once finished with her breakfast, she headed towards her first class for the day, briefly going over some of the content from the chapters in her Charms book incase Professor Flitwick sprouted a pop quiz upon the class. When she caught eyesight of the door to the class, a pair of hands ejected from an open broom closet and gripped her school robe. Startled by the sudden attack, she fumbled over her feet and flew towards the pulling force and crash-landed inside the the broom closet and below Draco's sternum. She heard the door close behind her and struggled to detach herself from the boy's body.

"Draco, what did I tell you a week ago? I said leave me alone!" She wiggled her arm to launch her wand from her sleeve and into her hand, but Draco saw her move and wrapped his arm snuggly around her, trapping her upper limbs to the sides of her body.

"Draco!" she hissed up at him, his mouth twisting into a lecherously leer. His head descended, and she wiggled to get free from his hold. If he kissed her…Oh no, if he kissed her!

Hermione liked to think she was not one of those females like she had read in books or worse, watched in movies, where the leading lady was a strong-minded individual with venom on her tongue and intellect in her behavior who, unfortunately, lost it all when she became attracted to the antagonizing male lead. The girl would turn into starry-eyed sap and throw her entire personality away because of a kiss. Hermione had already put her notoriety in danger numerous times in the past few weeks because of kisses.

"No, no, no," she said to Draco who was unperturbed by her objection. She leaned back as far as she could manage, but his lips still made contact against her skin. They brushed against her forehead sweetly, and Hermione clenched her teeth together and started going through the Twelve Uses of Dragons Blood in her mind.

His mouth dropped from her forehead to space between her brows, to the tip of her nose and then right below, and ultimately hovered teasingly over lips. She could feel the puffs of breath, distractingly deciding he had pancakes for breakfast with peanut butter and raspberry syrup. Uh oh! Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood! Twelve uses of Dragon's Blood!

Twelve Uses of Draco's Peanut Butter!

"You like peanut butter on your pancakes, too?" she whispered out loud and caught Draco's look of befuddled surprise before arching up her body a few centimeters and pecked his lips for a polite pleasantry but poked out her tongue inside his mouth right afterwards.

Thrown of kilter, but not at all displeased, Draco slightly jolted at the abrupt feeling of Hermione's tongue sweeping around in his mouth. He chanced letting go of her arms and sunk his fingers into her hair, or tried to. While his mouth quickly caught up with kissing her, he fingered the French braid until he reached the elastic holder at the bottom. Gingerly, not wanting to rip out any strands from her head, he freed her hair from the holder and hastily started to unravel the tresses, loving the feeling of his fingers coming through her riotous curls. He continued to snog her good and proper but had to eventually pull away. Yes, he forced her into the broom closet to kiss her, but there were other things that needed to be done.

"Malfoy," she whined with a dazed expression. "Why'd you stop?"

Draco silently laughed at her and caressed her jawline with a fingertip before stooping down and grabbing her bag as Hermione watched with a frown.

"Why are you going through my bag? Stop that."

He pulled out one of the two packages she received that morning—the green one—and wordlessly handed it to her.

Open it, he mouthed.

"Why aren't you talking?" Hermione asked while her aimless fingers searched out a seam on the wrapping paper to tear at.

Malfoy gave her a careless shrug and expression while shoving his hands into his pockets and then bobbed his head at her present's direction.

Ripping open the side, she stripped the rectangular shaped box of its wrappings and then widened her eyes at the richly colored golden box with deep brown cursive marked at the top left hand corner.

"You got me candy?" she inquired. "Really?"

On the outside, Draco hid his nervousness well. He knew it was risky to give Granger sweets. He and Theo both agreed she was not the type of girl to swoon at something as mundane as a box of chocolates, but Draco had received a very_ charming_ letter from Sirius Black the previous night on how he was no longer going to assist him in attaining Granger. Along with having been Silenced, Draco could not bloody well ask her what got her knickers off, could he? So he had to grapple, and what he came up with was sweets and not something as simple as of Honeyduke's variety. He had summoned his House-elf who quickly fetched the finest chocolate candies in Europe.

Try one, he silently demanded her and Hermione grimaced. "I just had breakfast, Malfoy. It's still morning. I-"

The box was ripped from her and the lid toppled to the ground. Draco scanned the chocolate lumps perched in dainty crinkled paper for the perfect one. He spotted the one he knew Granger would love and picked it up and held it in front of her face.

"Later," she said. "I'll have some to- Ommmphf!"

Hermione teetered backwards momentarily but regained her ground as she instinctively bit down on the chocolate that had been shoved into her mouth. Her teeth sunk into the coating of chocolate and then made contact with something sugary and possibly crystalized. Her tongue tasted the innards and her taste buds erected from the indescribable tanginess.

Mashing the candy up in her mouth and swallowing it, Hermione then asked Draco, "Was that…Was that pineapple?"

Draco nodded with a ghost of smile, and Hermione licked her lips and teeth and eyed the still open box thoughtfully. Sensing she wanted another one, he nicked another from the box and held the chocolate between his thumb and forefinger and presented it to her. Instead of taking the candy with her hand, she leaned forward enveloped her mouth around it and curled her tongue to suck and lave the caramel-y sweet and not actually take it from Draco.

Danger, danger, danger, her mind screamed when her tongue came in contact with the boy's thumb. She felt said boy flinch and retract his hand, leaving the chocolate in her mouth. She watched in half-dread and half-fascination as Draco's eyes clouded with want. His hands flew to his own school robes and separated it at the collar and shirked the heavy material followed by gripping her robe and shedding her of it.

"Malfoy, we have class," she said but had made no move to stop Draco from stripping her of her robe nor had she flung herself at her belongings and bolted at the door.

His mouth moved like he was saying something but nothing came out. She made a mental note as to ask about his lack of voice later because at the moment Draco was in front of her mouthing words again.

"What are you saying?" she whispered while shaking her head and then focused her full attention on Draco's mouth which was embarrassingly not hard to do. He repeated his phrase, and her eyes widened as her arms crossed protectively over her tummy.

"Uh…oh," she softly said, butterflies rampaging violently around in her torso. "Um…"

Please, his mouth formed.

"W-We'll be late for class," she stuttered out and avoided eye contact with him, a blush staining her cheeks. "And I-I don't think it's a good idea. I seem to do really bad ideas around you which is why I wanted you to stay away and you didn't. Now we're here in this broom closet where you have just…just…" Hermione could not repeat what Draco had wanted to do to her. It felt like her tongue was growing too large for her mouth and her head was going to light fire from all the heated blood rushing to her face.

Draco took her hand and brought it close to his mouth where he peppered chaste kisses on her knuckles while his other hand was placed at the dip of her waist where it did not stay for long. Second by second, the hand glided upwards and a tad over where it rested for a brief moment before squeezing.

"M-Maybe we c-can d-do what you-" Hermione never finished due to being pounced on by Draco.

* * *

Professor Flitwick had his back turned to the class while he stood on the stack of books to write on the chalkboard. Sighing with relief by the cracked door, Hermione quietly snuck into the classroom and found an empty seat in the back of the room.

Breathe ragged, skin flushed, and robe skewed, her shaky fingers latched onto bag and started getting out textbook and notes. Parvati leaned towards her with a genuine look of concern. "You missed a pop quiz."

"No," Hermione whimpered back at her. "No, no, no."

"I'm sure if you tell the professor you're ill, Hermione, he'll let you do extra credit. Look at you. You're all sweaty, frazzled, and flushed. Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine," she squeaked and smiled forcefully at the other girl. "Really."

Parvati did not look convinced but leaned in closer and asked, "Did you know?"

"Know what?" Hermione asked while pulling her hair up into a tight bun.

"Don't you _know what_ me, Hermione Granger. About Harry and Daphne Greengrass, silly?"

"Wh-" Hermione blew out and gazed at the direction Parvati's finger was pointing. There at the opposite upper corner was Harry Potter sitting quite closely to Daphne Greengrass, the girl's head resting on his shoulder as he jotted down notes from Flitwick's lecture.

"Scandalous, isn't it? When did they happen, Hermione? _How_ did they happen is what I'd like to know."

A troubled frown marred Hermione's lips, and she quietly replied, "So would I."

The class ended, and Hermione hurriedly stuffed her belongings into her bag, her focus on Harry and Greengrass. Following the snuggly couple, Hermione frowned at them with infinite amount of questions running around in her head, and by the looks of the situation, others around her had the same questions, too. The two were on the receiving end of some very confused expressions as they walked the halls towards Harry's next class where Hermione was going to take the opportunity to ask who, what, where, and most importantly, why. She knew Daphne Greengrass had History of Magic the next class, so Harry would be by himself. Perfect.

Harry and Greengrass parted ways with a lingering peck and Hermione began to pick up the pace. She was about to enter Arithmancy but a sharp tug on her satchel had her stumbling to the left and disappearing inside an empty broom closet. The door closed behind her, and Theo's mouth attacked hers like he was out for murderous revenge. She squealed a muffled sound on his lips which did nothing but urge his hands to smooth over her robe clad form. They drifted around her back and downwards until they latched onto her bum and squeezed.

Hermione's mind began to fog, so in what last attempt to deter the boy off of her, she gently patted his cheeks. His mouth disconnected with a damp, dewy slurp, and he rubbed the side of his face into the palm of her hand. He mouthed at her, "I missed you."

"You, too?" Hermione coughed out. "You can't talk, either? Why can't you or Draco talk?"

Theo did not answer her but stepped away and slid her satchel of her shoulder and began rummaging through it, pulling out the silver gift she had received this morning. He handed it to her, and Hermione groaned out, "No, Theo."

He pressed the box into her stomach with emphasis, not giving up. Hermione took the box and slowly began to unwrap the shiny silver wrappings. When her gift was completely uncovered, she arched an eyebrow at Theo and gave him a cringe slash smile as he stomach lurched in dismay.

"You got me tiny, little balls of cream-filled cakes. Thank you, I guess."

Theo's hopeful smile diminished and he cursed himself for getting something as ridiculous as desserts to woo Granger. She wasn't the type to turn into girl goo when presented with sweets, but he wasn't sure how to capture her heart. He tired giving her Merlin's original manuscript on her birthday, and she refused it. Before that, he gave her a beautiful flower which she left behind in class. And before that, he gave her ice cream which had been tossed to the ground like a forgotten pet. Effing hell, he couldn't do anything right when it came to Granger.

Guilt pooled inside Hermione's chest at Theo's kicked puppy expression. Oh no! One of her weaknesses! She couldn't stand seeing cute boys dejected looking. Damn him! Damn him to pieces! Ian Whitaker would do it to her back home, and she would cave and kiss him a bit longer, staying out past her curfew and receiving a lecture and an extra chore from her parents when she returned home.

"Theodore, please don't look at me like that," she begged and lifted the lid of her gift and snagged a cream-filled cake ball. It was perfectly round with a smooth chocolate coating, and she hesitantly pressed her lips against it. Draco had fed her more of his candies while he did naughty things to her in that other broom closet. Truth be told, Hermione was stuffed and feeling a tad nauseated from all the sugar. She loved sweets as much as the next girl, but she was raised with dentist parents. Candy and cakes were special event luxuries reserved for holidays and birthdays. Just that morning, she had consumed more sugar than she had in the last week put together.

Her front teeth sunk into the chocolate coating, felt the spongy texture of moist chocolate cake, and the soft coconut-y, vanilla-y, whipped creaminess of the center.

"Mmmm." She chewed the dessert enthusiastically, her stomach having momentarily forgotten it did not need any more sustenance. The cream-filled cake ball was quite tasty, yes. She popped the rest of it into her mouth and munched happily with a smile. "This tastes almost like my birthday cake you got me, Theodore. They're very good."

Theo smirked at her and took one from the box and bit into half of it and offered the other half to Hermione. She took it and almost ate it but decided to place it back into the box. She set the gift down by her bag and then lunged up at Theo and kissed him fully on the mouth, wrenching his mouth open with her tongue to get a taste of the cake.

The late bell to class rung, but Hermione paid no mind to it. She was a little preoccupied losing her mind for kisses.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to my readers and reviewers and such! Hope you all enjoyed that chapter. R&R, please!


	34. Chapter 34

Hermione rushed into the nearest girl's lavatory once the lunch bell rang and checked her reflection, tilting her head to the side and tugging at her collar to expose the shame. Gently, she pointed her opposite finger and poked the marked skin covering her carotid with a wince, the bruise still freshly sensitive.

Checking for the sound of possible eavesdroppers or those simply needing the loo, Hermione verified she was alone before discarding her robe, loosening her tie, and unbuttoning her shirt enough to point her wand at all the souvenirs Draco and Theo left behind.

Love bites covered and guilt present on her cheeks, Hermione straightened her clothes and slipped her robe in place all the while as her reflection glared back at her reprovingly.

"You disgust me! Have you lost your mind?!" her reflection spat at her. Hermione exhaled softly and turned away from the mirror. Her own reflection couldn't even stand to see her.

A loud stomping tore Hermione out of her self-loathing. She turned towards the noise and was confronted with a frazzled, infuriated looking Ginny Weasley.

"Did you know?!" she bellowed in hysterics and grabbed the other witch's shoulders and shook her firmly. Hermione wobbled and tried to shirk the girls iron grip with a pained grimace.

"Know what?

"About Harry and…Ugh! I can't even say that bitch's name!" Ginny wept and doubled over, trying to breathe, pants coming out as chokes. "You knew, didn't you? How could you keep this from me? You knew it would kill me. Why didn't you warn me? You're supposed to be my friend! Oh my Gods! Oh my Gods! I hurt, Hermione! Is this what it felt like? Is this what it felt like to see Ron kissing Parkinson? To watch them hold hands and smile at each other?" Ginny Weasley sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around the other girl's middle, sobbing into her robes. "He's kissing her right now, Hermione. Down by the lake." Another sob wracked through her and she softly let out, "I want my mum."

Hermione rested her hands against Ginny's shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. "Ginny, I'm sorry you're so upset about this. I don't like to see you so sad, but you and Harry broke up. You're with Zabini and-"

"It was a ploy! It was all a ploy! It's wasn't real!" Ginny shouted into Hermione's robes and fell back on to her bum, gazing helplessly up at her friend. "It was all pretend. Blaise is in love with Luna, and I wanted to make Harry jealous so he would come back to me. Last weekend when we were at Hogsmeade, we formed a plan, and it was supposed to work. Harry would see me with him and sweep in and beg for me to come back to him, and then Luna would openly see that I wasn't interested in Blaise whatsoever, and she and he could be together. But he never came, Hermione. Harry never came back to me. He never begged. He didn't even try. The last words we ever spoke to each other were that we hated each other. He must have meant it."

"He doesn't hate you, Ginny." Hermione shook her head and knelt down on the tile floor, hoping the eye-level sincerity would calm the other girl. "Just Saturday night he was saying he missed you, and it was hurting him to watch you and Zabini."

"But that was Saturday night," Ginny whispered bitterly. "It's Monday now, and he's with someone else."

"Another thing." Hermione sighed. "It wasn't right of you and Blaise to forge a relationship in hopes of attracting and winning over your intendeds. It's not honest, and it didn't work. I don't see Luna groveling at his heels, either."

"But do you think if I continued this thing with Blaise, Harry will come around?"

Hermione blinked at Ginny, appalled at what she was hearing. "No, I do not. If anything, it will cause Harry to move on faster. I'm not daft enough to think he's completely over you, but I'm sure seeing the continuation with Blaise will make Harry want to move on fully, as well."

Ginny's face crumpled, and she covered it with her hands, weeping into them for a moment before gathering a sentence together. "Do you think if I was honest about everything, he would take me back?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, thinking heavily on the girl's question. She knew Harry, but she did not know Harry's new relationship. For all she knew, he could very well indeed fancy Greengrass and would not be interested in going backwards regardless of present feelings for Ginny.

"I don't know," Hermione whispered.

"If Ron broke things off with Parkinson and begged you to have him, would you?" Ginny asked, wiping at her face.

"It's a different situation," Hermione told her gently.

"I just want to know. I need something to compare with," Ginny explained pleadingly, and Hermione caved, solemnly shaking her head.

"No."

Ginny nodded with a troubled, scrunched brow, internally debating as to what she should do. The bell rung, announcing to the school classes would resume in ten minutes.

"I don't want to go to class. I don't want to see Harry with her."

"Ginny," Hermione said. "You have to go to class. Don't let this hurt you more than necessary. I know it's painful, but turning into…into Moaning Myrtle won't solve anything. If you have to…If _we_ have to, we'll take this one day at a time. If you and Harry are really meant to be together, you'll both find your way. This whole disaster could very well be exactly what both of you need. It can be out of the way and in the past, if and when you and Harry get back together. A lot of couples go through this. They need a separation to find out what they really want."

Ginny wiped at her eyes with her fingers again and groaned with a solemn, accepting nod.

In Potions, Ginny sat impossibly close to Hermione, their hands clasped. Hermione tried to put her full attention on the assignment in front of her, especially grateful as to not having to actually brew a potion that day. She knew Ginny would botch it in the first five minute. But as she said, her primary focus should have been on her textbook, but her friend was squeezing her hand painfully. Hermione knew Ginny's focus was on Harry and Daphne, who were perched rather cozily next to each other, and was vanquishing the life out of her hand in an exertion of letting loose her anger and sorrow.

When the class concluded, Ginny whispered to Hermione, "Do you think they…you know?"

Hermione paused as she was putting away her notes and textbook and stared blankly at a tearful Ginny.

"They were both gone nearly all day yesterday. What could they have been doing?" Ginny snuffled.

"Do you want me to answer that?" Hermione asked carefully, unsure if the girl's question was rhetorical. "Honestly, I mean?"

"You think they're doing it, don't you?"

Hermione sucked in a breath. "I don't think Daphne would be all that interested in Harry if they weren't. I'm so sorry, Ginny. I really am, and I really wish I could say that Harry's scum and isn't worth crying over. But we both know he isn't scum, and he's definitely worth the tears. But remember what we said. We're taking this one day at a time. If that doesn't work, we'll do it by minute, okay?"

"Okay," Ginny said in a strangled voice and repeated. "Okay."

"Now I want you to go to your next class. I can't be there, but you'll be alright. You have Muggle Studies with the Hufflepuffs, and Harry isn't there, nor is Greengrass. I want the lesson to be your prime focus. If you really need someone, though, Susan is the TA in the class, and she will comfort you. She's really good at it."

"Please don't leave me," whimpered Ginny and sought out Hermione's hand, making the other witch frown and debate whether skipping Advanced Herbology would be okay just this once.

"I'll walk you to class," Hermione offered. "I'll help you get comfortable and situated in your seat next to Susan. She'll like that, and you'll like that, and she'll help you with your assignments and everything. You can come see me after that. School will be done for the day, and we can stop by the kitchens and knick some ice cream. We'll blow off studying completely and go back to my dorm."

Ginny grimaced and shook her head. "I can't. I have to tutor Blaise after classes are done. He's still stupid."

"Are you sure that's wise for you to still tutor him? Maybe you should find someone else for him," Hermione suggested pointedly.

"Perhaps. I'll talk it over with him and see if he's interested."

Hermione walked with Ginny to her Muggle Studies class, informing Susan of Ginny's needs and rushing to Herbology. After her class finished, she headed to the library to checkout a few books for a new Herbology project Professor Sprout sprung up on the Seventh Year students. It wasn't due until the first week of November, but Hermione wanted it out of the way to focus on other things.

Flipping through the pages of _William Goosing's Wonders of Magical Botany,_ something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked up and saw Theo standing at the end of the isle. He smiled and waved at her. Keeping her distance, Hermione awkwardly smiled back, nodding her head with politeness and hurriedly walked in the other direction. She turned the corner and ran into Draco, her nose ramming into his chest. She scowled up at him and stumbled backwards to get away. Like Theo, he smiled at her but reached out to touch her.

"Draco," she told him calmly. "No."

He pouted at her, jutting out his bottom lip which was a tad bit wet, and no, it did not look succulent at all, thank you very much! But yet her eyes were drawn to his mouth. She watched it as his lips curled into a smirk, and he stepped forward. Gaining a bit of sense, she scrambled backwards, her arm up to emphasize her want to keep him away.

"No, Draco," she said like she was chastising her beloved cat Crookshanks. "Stay back. I will hex you. I don't care you can't speak. I don't care you haven't a wand at the moment. I will defend myself as necessary."

But of course Draco persisted to walk towards her, his hand sliding in his robe pocket, and Hermione gripped her wand tightly. She was going to be ready, but his hand retreated with a folded up piece of parchment and gingerly reached out his hand towards her. She eyed it and then eyed him dubiously. With a firm shake of his fist and pointed gaze, she sighed and took the parchment from him and unfolded it.

_Don't look up_, it read.

Hermione looked up, and her eyes widened. Above her on the ceiling was a mistletoe, and really, why would it be there? It wasn't even Christmas yet, and by the time Hermione realized that she may want to run, Theodore was kissing her.

Yep, Theodore. Not Draco, the one who probably set the mistletoe into place.

The firm, demanding lips of Theodore Nott were only there for a moment due to them being taken away by almost violently. Her eyelids snapped open, and she saw him and Draco wrestling on the floor with their mouths silently shouting at one another.

Hermione could make out the word 'tosser' from Theo and 'thieving git' from Draco. Sighing resignedly, she shook her head and left them to it, not even bothering to deduct House points from Slytherin.

* * *

Ginny wiped at her bloodshot eyes and stomped into the library, stopping to eye Malfoy and Nott who were on the floor fighting the Muggle way with fists and shouts.

Well not shouting shouts because they could not speak, but their mouths were wide open, Ginny suddenly understood the Biblical saying 'gnashing of teeth'.

Ginny looked around for Madam Pince, wondering where the librarian had gone, so she took the situation upon herself to fix. Pulling out her wand from her robe pocket, she _Stupefied_ the two Slytherins and left them there in a heap, going in search for Blaise. He was at their studying table as usual with his History of Magic textbook open. She stared at him for a long moment before clamorously marching up to him, pointing her finger accusingly at him.

"You liar!" she verbally accosted, making him jolt a bit in his seat and pop his eyes up to meet hers.

"Pardon?" he inquired.

"You liar! You said making Harry jealous would work! You promised it would! But now look what's happened! He's with another girl! He's kissing her and probably doing other things! I can't believe I trusted you! I can't even believe I thought this would work!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Blaise stood up, showing his palms in surrender and in hopes she would calm down and back up. "Weasley, I get you're upset, but you need to relax."

"Don't tell me what to do! Everything has gone wrong because of you!"

Blaise's eyebrows shot towards the ceiling and a smirk scrunched up his left cheek. "I doubt that. I know you and Potter were officially on the outs when you came with me to Hogsmeade last weekend. Whatever happened before that was-"

"Entirely your fault!" Ginny interjected. "I know, Zabini! I know it was you that was sending me those notes! I didn't know for sure until my last class in Muggle Studies. Susan Bones was correcting Burbage's papers, and I was helping her. I came across one of your assignments. I can't believe I didn't recognize your writing sooner. I've been here in the library tutoring you. I can't believe I was so stupid! You don't really need a tutor, and I demand to know why you made me believe you needed one!" Ginny gripped her wand and took aim at Blaise's nose and was thrilled to see his smirk was gone. He wasn't so arrogant now, was he?

"Weasley," he began. "I don't know what notes you're talking about."

It was Ginny's turn to smirk. If the plonker actually thought he was going to get out of this shite pit by being an exceptional liar, he was wrong!

"You have a gift, Blaise I'm An Effing Tosser Zabini. You lie very good, and I will flatter you for one second and say if I did not know for a fact you've been messing with me and Harry, I would quickly apologize for being so accusing. But I know it was you who wrote me those love letters, and I know you don't like me, so you did it to mess with me and Harry obviously. I want to know why!"

Blaise remained calm and unperturbed on the outside, no crease or line in his face to give any detail of his thoughts scrambling around in his brain.

Because they were. He was in deep shite, and he didn't know what to do. The Weasley Girl had to have been the smartest Weasley to ever grace the Hogwarts Halls, and he wasn't prepared for it. He knew she was smart but not necessarily brilliant. He had noticed her limits whilst she tutored him. Every once in a while, the information she gave him was wrong. She didn't know Professor Binns had offered him to be the TA in Advanced History of Magic that semester, but he had politely declined.

Blaise was having an internal conundrum. He knew Ginny Weasley was bark and bite—she followed through on her threats. If he chose to tell her the truth about everything including Draco and Theo and Pansy, it may very well be the last thing he would do for a long time. Telling her would also betray his mates' trust in him. True, Blaise was still upset with them for what this whole debacle had cost him with Luna, but…Oh Merlin's Fairy Pants! What was he supposed to do?! Tell a lie and risk Ginny to see right through it and get hexed. Tell the truth and get hexed.

Exhaling shakily, Blaise showed his palms again to Ginny. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ginny urged, wagging her wand at him in gesture for him to continue.

"Right." Blaise nodded with a grimace, wanting her to know this was hard for him and lethal on both ends of the spectrum. But he may be able to play this on a respectable card the Gryffindor Fire Princess could relate to.

"Right?"

"I will tell you the truth, and you will be…upset. I can only hope you don't hurt me too badly. I want you to know, Weasley, everything I did, I did it for friendship."

He watched Ginny's red brow quirk at the word 'friendship' and something akin to amusement and intrigue filled her eyes. "Friendship? A nasty slimy snake like yourself knows nothing of friendship, Zabini. It could bugger you up the arse, and you'd think you hadn't wiped in a while."

Her verbal sparring was exquisite and always lunged for jugular. Nevertheless, Blaise was completely offended.

"You think mate-ship is big enough for three houses in the school and no more; I get it." Blaise shrugged, a snarl forming immediately. "You know, you Weasleys are all the same. I actually thought you were brilliant and different from the rest of your hovel family, but you're not. You see everything in black and white. You are either a Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, or you're evil. You have no hidden depths. There is nothing more to you than your House name. Because Salazar was such a prick, everyone who was Sorted into his effing House was, too.

"Let me tell you something, little girl. You don't know as much as you think you do. I have friends, and you can claim all the shite you think you know about and how I don't know what that means, but it's you I laugh at because it's you who knows nothing. You figured out it was me who has been writing you those fake love notes. Good job!"

Ginny folded her arms protectively around her chest and jutted out her chin, no longer pointing her wand at him but wanting for him to think his words of truth had not humiliated her in the least when they actually had. She sniffed and rolled her eyes, hoping he would think she perceived him as being dramatic. "Okay, Zabini, you've made your case. You have friends, and they give you warm feelings inside your heart. You said you were going to tell me the truth. What would that be?"

Sneering at her, Blaise replied, "Like I said, I did what I did for my friends, so you can scream at me all you want after I tell you, but I won't feel guilty."

"Are you even capable of feeling at all?"

"Oh, you are one nasty bitch. No wonder Potter was ready to be rid of you. Of course, Daphne isn't much better, but who cares? She puts out."

Angry tears stabbed at Ginny's eyes. Biting her lip, she growled at him and then hissed, "Just tell me the truth like you said you were going to do."

"On one condition—you cannot tell anybody. The last thing I want you to do is going off and blabbering to Granger, Potter, and especially your brother. This stays between you and me. If you can't keep your mouth shut, you are going to be upsetting a lot of people, and I will get the heat of it. If you agree to do so, pull out your wand."

"I am not doing an Unbreakable Vow!" sputtered Ginny and Blaise snorted.

"You're adorable. I don't think the truth is worth your life, Weasley. I just want to perform a Binding to keep you in your words. You tell someone; you will have black teeth and a black tongue until the spring. I think that's fair."

Ginny fiddled with her wand, unsure of what to do. The last time she trusted Zabini, everything went to hell. But at the same time, she really wanted to know what was going on and why. It may help her in bringing Harry back to her in some way.

Undecidedly, she slowly lifted her wand as Blaise withdrew his from his pocket. The tips of their wands touched, and a golden spiral haloed above them.

"Do you promise not tell anyone—alive or dead— of what I'm about to tell you?"

"I do," promised Ginny in a hoarse tone.

_One minute later…_

Ginny's hands flew to her mouth and muffled a scream into her palms, the shrill vibrating her fingers. When her last breath of scream ended, she inhaled and did it again and again until tiring of it. Face red and nails digging into her palms, she glared at Zabini with all of her energy, channeling all of her feelings into a deathly stare.

"I wish you dead!" she hissed at him, her body practically humming to blow off anger with violence. Blaise was so close. Not far away at all. She could easily attack him, and by the time he realized that perhaps he should run, it would be too late.

"Calm down, Weasley," shushed Blaise. "It's really not that big of an issue if you really think about it. It's just two blokes fighting over a girl. I know she's your friend, but-"

"Let me tell you a thing or two, Zabini!" Ginny planted one hand on her hip and pointed the other at him. "I think what Malfoy and Nott have going is bloody ridiculous. Hermione _knows_ they're fighting over her! I knew before, too, and that's not why I'm upset. I'm angry because of what you, Pansy, and those other daft, self-absorbed cads have done. What Pansy is doing with Ron…It's wrong! He thinks she really likes him. This is going to hurt him! He's been talking about having her over for Christmas and introducing her to Mum and Dad."

"If you say anything," Blaise began threateningly. "You won't look so pretty."

Ginny frowned and felt her heart sink into her chest, anger there but sorrow was becoming prominent. "I don't really have anyone to look pretty for, do I? Another reason why I'm angry—you made me lose Harry."

"If it makes you feel any better, I had no real intention of actually breaking you two up. My goal was to only make him jealous but, Sweetheart, it was you who severed the relationship."

"Because I thought…" Ginny groaned and covered her face with her hands. This was a nightmare! None of this was real. She was going to wake up back at the Burrow to her mum yelling at her to wake up and get ready to go to King's Cross. Harry would be there, and he would kiss her good morning. Hermione would be there silently hoping Ron would take notice of her as a girl more than a friend.

"Just let things be, Weasley. Don't let this bother you more than necessary. Go about your life and let things happen. It's possible that your oaf of a brother will get his heart crushed into pieces this Christmas, but there will be other girls at other times. As for Potter, let him go. You don't really want to get mixed up in that again, do you?"

"Yes!"

"You say that now, but you've got more potential than being Mrs. Harry Effing Potter or worse, your mother."

"Leave my mum out of this, Zabini, or I'll drag your mother into it. I feel I have more ammunition up my sleeve on that matter."

"I'm trying to flatter you here, so you won't go off and be a bleedin' heart and sacrifice your beauty by telling your friends everything."

"You're such an arse! I loathe you so much; I hope your dick shrivels up and decays! But silly me! You probably don't have one."

"I'll show you, Bitch!"

"Don't you dare undo another button, Zabini, so help me, I will castrate whatever _little_ I may see!"

"Speaking of little; perhaps you should rub some Anti-Swelling cream on your chest. Those mosquito bites-"

"You foul, disgusting pig! I'll inform you that my breasts are very nice. Just because I don't toss them around and bare them like a slag doesn't mean-"

"Maybe if you had, Potter would not have been so hasty to leave when you banished him."

"Git! Nasty arse!

"Self-righteous Priss!"

"I hate you!" Ginny griped and took a step forward into Zabini's space, glaring up at him.

"Believe you me, Sweetheart. The feeling is mutual!" he spat.

"I hate you more!" Ginny screeched and pulled down his face with forceful hands and kissed him.

_Ten minutes later…_

"Oh my Gods!" Ginny exclaimed and pushed Blaise off of her, who had collapsed on top of her only moments prior. He grumbled and sluggishly rolled off of her and on to his side. Not having enough space on that side of the table, he fell backwards and onto the floor with a thump and a groan.

Ginny ignored the string of curses coming from the floor and scrambled to pull down her skirt and button up her shirt. She swore while bringing her the material together, remembering that Blaise had ripped open her shirt.

"_Accio_ buttons." She waved her wand around the secluded section of the library. The buttons flew into a pile on the table and swished her wand about with a hasty _Reparo_ and trembled when they flew to her shirt and mended themselves. Quickly, she buttoned up her shirt, found her tie and slipped it on, and looked down at her legs and winced. Chanting a Cleansing Spell on parts of the skin above her knees and on the table, she ran away and out of the library.

Portraits chastised her for running in the hallways, but she ignored them all the way to the Head Dormitories. Giving the painting a mumbled password, she dashed inside.

"Hermione!" she wailed while entering the Common Room.

Hermione heard Ginny call her name and set down her quill and poked her head out of her room to stare at a distraught and messy-headed girl that looked kind of like her friend. But Ginny had never looked that cuckoo before.

"Gin?" Hermione squeaked apprehensively, not trusting the situation to fully come out of her room. "What's the matter?"

Ginny opened her mouth and a sharp croaking sound sprung from it, and then she doubled over and vomited.

* * *

A/N: Wow, that was a big chapter. It's all for my readers, reviewers, and followers. A big thanks to you. In my next chapter, we are going to be seeing what Sirius' letter, mentioned in the previous chapter, actually said to Draco. (It's probably going to be highly insulting)

Hope the chapter was enjoyable. I know there was a bit of drama in it, but I tried to keep the snark high and humorous between the Blaise and Ginny. Sorry for any mistakes. Anyway, everyone have a good weekened. I'll try to update again sometime next week, but we shall see. My sister's getting married, so yeah...we shall see, we shall see.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: I'm back to updating! Wahoo! Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers. I have reached over 100,000 words and *whistles* it's been a tough ride, but I'm kind of pleased with myself. This is the longest fic I've done...so far. **Lineage** is promising me a lot of words, too. Hope the chapter is enjoyable! The editing for this one was horrid. I had to rewrite a whole bunch, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Tell me what you think. R&R, please!

* * *

"Why were you not in Charms today?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow at the question, pursed his lips in amusement, and adjusted his school tie like he'd rather be perfecting his appearance than to have a one-sided conversation. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shrugged and bypassed his Head of House and continued his way down the dank corridor towards the Slytherin House Portrait. Professor Snape quickly caught up with him and gripped Draco's shoulder, spinning him around and causing him to stumble over his feet.

"You've become slothful in your academic duties, Draco. You and Theodore both. Not to mention, sloppy in your personal dealings by letting them drift and dwell in places reserved for far better obligations. Along with that, your lack of concern involving points is appalling. The House is mere digits away from becoming zero. I demand you show some respect to that and to your fellow Housemates! I do not know what's gotten into you and Theodore, but both of you will cease whatever rubbish it is!"

Draco scowled at his godfather and shirked the man's grip and stalked away from him. The seventeen year old had more vital things to worry about than playing nice with his housemates. Falling in love with Granger had completely reset his priorities. After a month of wooing her along with maintaining entertainment in his life, school had been pushed off the broom. He didn't really need it anyway. School, that is. He was inarguably brilliant and didn't need a bleedin' piece of rolled up parchment to tell him any different. What he did need was Granger and everything else be damned.

Entering the Slytherin Common Room, he bolted into his dorm and sat down at his desk, opening a drawer and extracting the parchment he had received the night prior. The letter had arrived after dinner while Draco had been studying the shimmering green wrappings of the box he planned to Owl Granger the next morning. Instantly recognizing the blasted owl belonging to Sirius Black, he scrambled for his wand like a pathetic forgetful plonker. That straggling-faced, codging bastard twinkling in the Head Office had his wand!

In the present and unfolding the creased parchment, Draco reread Black's letter for the hundredth time:

_Dear Rotted Spawn of Foul Cousin Narcissa,_

_ I applaud the effort your pathetic self has made in catching Miss Granger's heart, but it has come to my attention that you are not ready for such a prize and you may never be. To put it plainly, I find you despicable and you are driven by your prick more than your heart. You may believe you have feelings for Miss Granger, but you have not succumbed wholly to her because you are a coward as you are a slimy git. You fear so many frivolous things and disrespect those you claim to care about, and Hermione does not deserve to be with such a wanker. I'm sure if she knew what you were up to this past weekend, she'd refuse to let you touch her. Yes, I am aware of your delightful weekend where you did Merlin knows what with Merlin knows who and contracted something viral of which I will not let my godson's best friend near. Go near her again, Draco Malfoy, and I will have words with your parents. I made a copy of each letter you sent and will notify them of your feelings towards a certain Muggle-Born if I become aware of your persistence to obtain Miss Granger._

_Sirius_

Draco crumpled up the parchment paper and then ripped it to shreds. Shite, he was angry! Who did that Blood Traitor think he was—coming off like he was such a saint?! That man was a vile rodent and was no better than any bed-hopper at Hogwarts. If the dolt believed himself superior from breaking out of the mold of an average Black, then the bastard was even more delusional than his mother and father ever believed.

How dare that fart-faced turd point his finger at Draco and call him despicable and a slimy git and chastise him on how he handled his physical needs. Sirius Black was a notorious slag and…

The ripped, crinkled parchment fluttered to the dungeon floor while Draco slumped his shoulders, shaking his head at his own choices. It had been a mistake to contact Sirius in the first place, and it was his mistake. Maybe if Draco had been simply trying to seduce some random Mudblood, the circumstances would have been less hostile with his mother's estranged cousin, but he wasn't merely after Granger's cherry. He wanted all of her and thought with a little help from the man who bedded Muggle-Borns like they were going out of style, he'd be able to capture her. No, Black wanted Draco to avoid Hermione, change his personality, and befriend a Gryffindor Mudblood, who in actuality treated women like any other Slytherin Pureblood sod did.

Draco didn't want to change. He wouldn't. Perhaps he wouldn't go off and shag whores anymore, but he wasn't going to lie anymore by telling Dean Thomas he needed a tutor for Muggle Studies. And honestly, the bloke had been decent but had the manners of a gorilla and was in no way better than Draco.

No.

Draco balled up his fists in determination. If obtaining Granger meant he had to change, maybe Draco needed his education after all. Other than that, he believed she could love him for him simply being the way he was. He loved her despite her filthy blood, wild hair, and better test scores. She could damn well love him for being devastatingly sexy, funny, and only a little crude. Their differences made things fiery. If by some absurd chance Theo won her affection, Granger would never feel that spark Draco knew she felt with him. She bloody well may like the thieving ponce more at the moment, but she had to come to her senses eventually. Draco would wait until then. Even if that meant he wouldn't have her by Christmas. There was still another six months of school after the hols and an arse load of years after Hogwarts. There was still plenty of time to woo her, seduce her, impregnate her, and marry her.

_Unless Theo gets there first,_ a voice sounding suspiciously like his late Grandfather Abraxas taunted inside his head.

He won't shag her until they're married, Draco told the voice confidently, not at all weary his dearest dead grandparent was dropping by to say hello inside his head. In life, his grandfather had always had a way with words and explaining things perfectly to Draco, so he could understand any given situation.

_Do you truly believe that? If so, what if she tries to seduce him first? Will he turn her down and tell them to wait until matrimony?_

Uh…

_And what if Granger falls in love with Theo and accepts his proposal after graduation, not even considering she may like quarrelling with you more than she likes dry humping your best friend?_

Um…

_What if they marry quickly and get crackin' on the moppet making? Let me tell you something, my boy, it's difficult to sway a married woman, but it's damned near suicidal to sway a mother._

Well…

_Don't just lay back and wait for the seeds to plant themselves. Don't just wait for the rain to water them. Someone may come along and steal the land you want to fertilize, so you're going to have to accept you only have two months to make that Mudblood yours. If you don't, you might as well check out Astoria's flesh colored bra a handful of times and consider making it a regular commitment._

Father and Mum won't approve. Disownment? Face blown of the Black Family Tree?

_Who's going to do that last bit? No one besides Man Slag and Pothead have access to it. You know, Black may have been right. You are a coward. You want the Mudblood, but you don't want the consequences she's going to come with. Hate to tell you this, but it's an all or nothing situation. Theo has thrown all of himself into obtaining her and yes, he cannot be disowned which is very lucky for him, so you are going to have to make some choices soon. Are you capable? Of course you are! Malfoy's don't fail!_

* * *

"Ginny?" Hermione waved a hand over her friend's face. The girl had vomited near the entrance into the Head Common Room, sobbed like she was in physical pain, and then sat on the couch and hadn't moved for almost twenty minutes. Her eyes were opened and unblinking like she was in a catatonic state.

"I don't know what happened, but I'm thinking something bad, but…" Hermione sighed tiredly. She had been talking or screaming herself hoarse to get Ginny to snap out of it. "It can't be that bad. You're acting like you experienced or saw something devastatingly horrid. Let me guess, you were one of those who walked into the classroom where Harry and Greengrass were occupying it in a very unbecoming way? I can't believe he would be so careless. And honestly, to do that on school grounds and to not even lock the door? What was he thinking?" Sigh! "He's probably not taking his capful. Stupid boy."

Ginny's left eyelid twitched, and Hermione inwardly rejoiced. The small but spastic movement meant her friend was in there and listening.

"When you're ready to talk, we'll talk but if you're not ready, I do have some studying I could be doing." Hermione patted Ginny on the shoulder and smiled before standing up from the couch and going towards her room.

Almost to her door, she heard the entrance portrait swing open and Michael came stomping through in an irritated huff. He gave Ginny a startled look and then saw Hermione and asked, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Hermione flippantly told him and folded her arms and cocked her eyebrow. "What's got you in a mood?"

"I need a favor," Michael mumbled and tossed his bag onto the floor, the same exact spot Ginny had thrown-up on. Thankfully, Hermione had cleaned quickly after the regurgitating event or else the Head Boy would have had a hissy fit.

"What is it you need?"

"Actually." Michael paused like he was considering an idea before continuing. "I need two, but I'll ask the other one later. Would you be so kind as to assist Nott with his studies? For some rubbish reason, the Headmaster assigned me to help him for the next two weeks with his assignments. I really, really, _really_ don't want to do it."

"Oh." Hermione frowned and creased her brow in confliction at the thought of having to help Theo for the next two weeks. Most of their sessions would have to take place in the library or classrooms after classes were over. Those places would be isolated or empty, and it would be just the two of them sitting close to each other where she could smell his soap and see him without his school robe on. He'd shirk the heavy material, roll up the cuffs of his sleeves right below his elbows, and loosen his tie. His hair would be boyishly mussed and would be even more so once she-

"So would you, please? I'll do anything you want…with the exception of purposefully lowering my grades so you have a better shot at valedictorian. Other than that, I'm all yours."

Hermione didn't catch the way he said, 'I'm all yours.' Her mind was still in an empty classroom or in an isolated part of the library where no one could hear thumping or out-of-breath voices.

"Yes, I'll do it," she whispered distractedly, her foggy brain unable to stop her promise.

"Really? You're the best, Hermione. He's going to be in the potion's classroom in about five minutes."

* * *

Theo tapped the sharp, inked tip of his quill on his piece of note parchment. He looked at the clock with disdain and inaudibly groaned. Coroner was going to be there in seconds, and he contemplated stabbing himself in the jugular with his writing utensil just before hand. Why of all the people in the bloody school did he have to get assistance from that insufferable wanker? Theo would have rather gotten help from a Hufflepuff First Year like Hannah Abbot's little brother who thought rainbows were formed by a union of unicorns farting. Because honestly, all he needed was a wand, and it didn't matter which wizard or witch helped him. He only needed someone to say the magic words. He had tried to be positive about the ruddy situation of not having a wand because it could have very well been an excellent situation where he could practice his wandless magic. While in Potions a few hours earlier, he arrogantly pointed his finger at the cauldron, shirking Blaise's worried look, and mentally said the spell needed to turn the dragon's blood and billywig into a type of healing cream for rashes.

Theo supposed he shouldn't feel completely and utterly humiliated, for he was able to make the concoction react. Blaise had winced at the innards of the cauldron and bravely stuck his finger into it to touch their potion.

_Tap, tap, tap!_

"_Blimey, it's has hard as a rock!" he exclaimed whilst eyeing the black solid mass in astonishment. He picked up the pot and shook it, trying to dislodge the contents. "Bugger, it's not coming out!"_

"_Mr. Zabini, what may I ask, are you doing?" asked Professor Snape. Blaise glared accusingly at Theo who sheepishly shrugged with a smirk in place._

"_Theo thought it would be dandy to perform a little wandless, wordless magic," his friend snarled and started to shake the cauldron again, petulantly saying, "And he ruined my cauldron."_

"_Stop shaking it! You're going to-"_

_The cauldron fell to the floor with a _thunk_ and rolled around on its side in a circle before making a distinct crackling sound and breaking into thick, jagged crumbles. The black mass that had been inside rolled away from its former home and fell to the side, sprouting talons and a fire-breathing mouth with foaming razor sharp teeth._

"_Damn," cursed Blaise and Draco popped his head into Theo's view and his sort of friend stumbled back in fear when seeing the creature._

_Theo whirled his head towards Granger, wondering if she had seen what had happened. Thankfully she had not, for the sweetheart was busy tending to a distraught Weaselette._

Professor Snape had taken care of the dastardly being Theo had created but not without docking five house points from Slytherin and making him promise to replace Blaise's cauldron.

So there he was in the potion's classroom with his notes, an empty cauldron, and the ingredients to remake the all-purpose anti-inflammatory cream for the epidermis while waiting for Michael Kiss Any Smelly Arse For An O Coroner.

The heavy door creaked open and Theo tensed out of instinct, for his enemy was approaching. He turned towards the intruder with a glare ready on his face which vastly melted away when seeing Granger. He stood from his stool in surprise and she stopped a meter or so away from him. She was without her robe, her tie missing, and the first few buttons at the top of her shirt were undone. The skin underneath was smooth and pushing upwards with every intake of breath.

"Michael sent me," she said and then sprinted towards him, jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, her mouth claiming his in a kiss.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: So sorry for the belated update. I had plans to update Friday, but the chapter was a disaster. So I made plans to update yesterday, but the chapter was still not good enough. I don't know if it even is now. It was a killer to edit, and I probably made a load of mistakes. I'll probably come back and do a bit more cleaning up but for now, Chapter 36 is up and running! Thank you to my readers and reviewers, followers and those who have favorited this fic. Please R&R and tell me your thoughts and have a Happy New Year. I thought I'd say that now since I won't be updating until next year. *wink, wink* I know. That was awfully cheesy.

* * *

On the dreary afternoon of Thursday, Hermione hid away at her desk in her dormitory, her schoolwork keeping her company. What was also maintaining its retched presence was the memory of what happened three previous afternoons ago where her first tutoring session with Theo took place.

Since agreeing with Michael to help Theodore with his studies, she was scheduled to see him three times a week. So far that week, they have had two study sessions: one on Monday and the other on Wednesday. Friday would, the next day, would be the next time they meet.

The session on Monday had been an utter disaster, mainly because of her hormones, but Theo hadn't necessarily pushed her away.

_Monday Afternoon…_

_After an embarrassing half-hour of not doing what Head Girl and the Slytherin should have been doing, the potion was eventually finished. Once the potion was tested and Theodore was signed off for the assignment, Hermione bolted out the door like Armageddon was nipping at her heels. When she made it down the hallway, she chanced looking behind her and, indeed, Armageddon was catching up. Damn his longer legs! Maybe she should hide in the girl's loo. He wouldn't follow her in…right?_

_No, he'd follow and then would drag her out of there._

_She saw the Enchanted Staircase up ahead and tried her best to pick up speed, memories of watching American teenage slasher films reeling in her mind. The pretty high school girl who had been alone at home until some freak in a mask somehow sneaks inside with intent to mutilate her. The actress would run up the stairs and away from the killer, which was silly because there was no place to go upstairs. But not at Hogwarts, there were plenty of places to go upstairs. The trick was to get there first._

"_Can't catch me!" she couldn't help but shout out to Theo. She made it to the second level of stairs and dashed up it, coming to the top, only to have the case disconnect from the next level and move to the left._

"_No!" she wheezed and looked behind her, Theo having made it to the same staircase as her. He was at the bottom leering up at her with a triumphant smirk. Slowly, like the killers in the movies, he languidly climbed up the stairs. Her heart beat rapidly from the run, from dread, and from anticipation. She willed the stairs to connect to a level or another case, but it actually came to a dead halt. There really was nowhere to go when silly girls ran upstairs, was there?_

_Theodore was halfway up the stairs and he really was milking his time wasn't he? Sighing in acceptance and with a tired smile, Hermione began descending the stairs towards the middle. There was no reason as to delay the inevitable._

"_Miss, is he bothering you?!" yelled a voice. Both Hermione and Theo turned to where the voice was coming from and saw a portrait of handsome young man, approximately sixteen, glaring down at Sir Cadogen._

"_Get out of my painting," snapped the painted boy and tried to shoo the knight away, the chunky pony neighing at the flicks on the nose it was being given._

"_I cannot, Good Sir! I have to save the maiden!" Sir Cadogen awkwardly removed himself from his steed and faced the two on the stairs._

"_The maiden is fine," sighed the boy and mouthed an 'I'm sorry' to Hermione and Theo._

"_She is not fine! She is being chased down, and I will challenge the one who tried to inflict harm upon her! Pull out your sword! We shall have battle…NOW!"_

"_I'm fine, Sir Cadogen. Really, I am." Hermione nodded at the knight. "He wasn't going to hurt me, were you, Theo?"_

_Theo shook his head and appeared like he was trying to not laugh at the small knight who was waving his tiny sword back and forth_

"_But you were running! He must've wanted to hurt you but have no fear, Fair Maiden of Gryffindor, I shall protect you! Take that and that and…Can you come closer, please?"_

"_Really, Sir Cadogen, Theo had no ill intentions towards me," she tried to explain, briefly wondering why she was trying to explain herself at all. She climbed down the few steps until reaching Theo and whispered to him, "Let's just ignore him. Once he gets going, he doesn't stop. There's no reasoning with him."_

_Theo bared his teeth at her in a feral grin, his hands flying to her waist and squeezing._

'_I caught you,' he mouthed and she scoffed._

"_Really, Mr. Nott?" She rolled her eyes but accepted his kiss. Rubbing their noses for a moment, he cupped the sides of her neck and then returned to her lips._

"_Get your filthy-self off of the Fair Maiden of Gryffindor!"_

_The staircase began to move towards an upper level and the moment it attached, Hermione pulled herself away from Theo and bounded back up the stairs and to the next level and the one after that until she came to The Fat Lady and hurried inside._

The Wednesday tutoring session had been a bit more dramatic because Professor Snape was in the classroom with them correcting assignments. Hermione was quite aware of the professor's dislike with her and upon her arrival in his class with Theo, he had jumped down her throat immediately.

"_Mr. Coroner is to assist Mr. Nott with his studies, Miss Granger. Now go." His voice raised an octave at the word 'go', emphasizing to her he would not tolerate her presence for longer than necessary._

"_I have taken over those duties for Michael, Professor Snape," Hermione informed him politely._

"_It was not your place to take over those duties, Miss Granger. No matter. Go find him and bring him here this instant. Ten points from Gryffindor for a dimwitted decision."_

"_But , Sir-" she tried but lost her train of excuse when Theo stepped forward with a folded up piece of parchment. Snape took it without actually looking at it, unfolded it, and then glanced at it._

"_No," he said and let the parchment flutter to the floor._

'_Yes,' challenged Theo inaudibly and his Head of House raised an amused eyebrow._

"_No," he repeated, although more lightly. "Professor Dumbledore arranged for you to have your studies with Mr. Coroner, Mr. Nott, and so you shall."_

_Theo shook his head firmly and then nudged it towards Hermione pointedly._

"_No. That is final, Mr. Nott. Miss Granger, run along and find Mr. Coroner. Don't dillydally while you do." Snape waved dismissively at her, and Hermione sighed and went to walk away, but the boy grabbed her and then glared at the professor._

"_Let her go, Mr. Nott, or I will be forced to take House points from Slytherin which is something we cannot afford," threatened Snape._

_Hermione gaped when Theo shrugged and cocked an eyebrow challengingly at his superior._

"_Don't care, do you? Have you no respect?! Draco and you both have…" His lecture fell short and something in his black eyes clicked into place like a puzzle inside his head had finished assembling. He zeroed in on Hermione with a troubled frown._

_His scrutiny made her feel like he was reading her mind, so Hermione went to leave once more, but Theo's hand held her strongly in place._

"_I think I should go," she whispered to him. "I don't want to cause Slytherin anymore House points."_

"_Are you admitting, Miss Granger, that the descending number of Slytherin House points is your fault?" Snape asked in intrigue._

"_Wh-What? No! I've had nothing to do with your House's decline of points. Honest," she fumbled out timidly. "I just meant…You know what I meant, but you don't care. I'll leave."_

_Theo did not let her go,_

"_Let me go, Theodore. I can't help you again."_

"_Again? Miss Granger, are you saying you helped Mr. Nott previously? Did you take Michael Coroner's responsibility on Monday, as well?"_

_Hiding her annoyance, Hermione squared her shoulders and said, "I did, Professor. Like I said, I have taken over with helping Mr. Nott with his studies."_

"_Another ten points from Gryffindor," Snape lashed out at her venomously. "Leave now, Miss Granger."_

"_I can't!" she snapped and wiggled her shackled arm. "Theodore won't let me go!"_

"_Let her go this instant, Mr. Nott, or I will take House points."_

'_I don't bloody care,' he mouthed with a shrug._

"_I will give you detention!"_

'_I'm in detention.'_

_Sucking in a deep breath, Snape clenched his fingers and exhaled stiffly. "Are you looking to be expelled, Mr. Nott? I would hate to have to do that."_

_The boy bobbed his head to the side at Hermione, telling his Head of House he wanted her to help him or he could go pack his bags._

"_Don't think you need education, is that it?" inquired Snape._

_Theo nodded his head, and the professor inhaled sharply and said icily, "Very well then."_

_Theo turned around to leave the room with Hermione dragging behind him, reprimands ready on the girl's tongue for what the stupid boy had just agreed to. Her scolding fell short when hearing Snape's voice again._

"_Miss Granger, I would prefer to have the tutoring session in here. Don't be dragging Mr. Nott off when he has work to do."_

_Smirking triumphantly at Snape, Theo led her to his desk where a cauldron and the ingredients were waiting, both quickly getting started on the instructions in the textbook. Once the blood of a Norwegian Ridgeback was poured, followed by mashed up pomegranates and the eggs of female newt, Hermione offered her wand to Theo._

"_Remember how I told you to hold it," she said and placed a gentle reassuring hand on his. "It's a different feel than yours; I imagine, so be gentle and thorough with the Swish and Flick."_

_Smiling down at her with the wand in hand, he hastily stooped over and kissed her on the cheek and silently chuckled when she whipped her head at Snape's desk where the man had barricaded himself behind a stack of parchment._

"_That wasn't funny, Theo," she whispered. "If he had seen that, it would have been very bad."_

_As if to show her how little he cared, he kissed her on the cheek again._

_After the spell was cast and the heat below the cauldron was set to low, they waited the thirty minutes followed by Snape checking in to pass off the potion._

"_It'll do," he drawled lowly._

_Hermione and Theo gathered their belongings and exited the Potions classroom, the girl wasting no time in opening her mouth once the heavy door was closed behind them._

"_Oh. My. Gods!" Hermione huffed and marched ahead of Theo before turning around and waggling her finger at him. "I can't believe you! I simply can't! What you did in there was childish! You put your education at risk! What if he had let you leave? Have you no respect for yourself? For your future?"_

_Digging into him wasn't at all fair due to him being Silenced, and Hermione was well aware, but he had to know how much his earlier actions displeased her. Right then, all he could see was his own pride. He smirked his carelessness with a shrug and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek, and she pushed his hand away with a glare, earning a frown from him_

"_I am very disappointed in you, Theodore. Do you think you're too good or something for education? For that diploma? I cannot even be, in the slightest, flattered that you would choose to be expelled than to have someone else help you. I mean, honestly. You are trying so hard to impress me, but…" Hermione paused and then sighed with a bitter smile. "You nearly lost me back there. You're rich. You have a company waiting for you when you leave school. You are so very blessed in many ways, but I could never be with someone who would purposefully leave school to prove a point to a teacher or to impress a girl. Even when that girl is me."_

_Like she had thought before, it was unfair to say her piece of mind when the boy could not defend himself properly. Nevertheless, he had to hear it. And e__xpectedly, his hands flew towards her, but she stepped back while putting a hand on his chest to keep the distance between them. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? In class."_

* * *

_Present Afternoon..._

Hermione was able to lock away her bothers in the back of her mind and make her academics the primary focus. She was pleased that she was making spectacular headway and was nearly done with her first draft with her Herbology project. However, she was a little irked there would be little time to continue with the second draft because of her Ancient Runes assignment due on Monday which was only half-done. If she pushed herself, she'd be able to finish that by dinner and could possibly run down to the Great Hall and snag a heavily buttered roll and some grapes and come right back to finish her work. Maybe just maybe, she _could_ get started on her second draft around 8:30 if she stayed within schedule.

"Hermione!" Michael called for outside her locked door and then started banging on it.

Groaning, she glared at her door and shouted, "Not now, Michael! I'm very busy!"

"I need you!" he whined. "I need you badly! I'll make you those cupcakes!"

Hermione opened her mouth to yell out a 'no' but stopped short when thinking about those cupcakes he made a few weeks prior. They had been quite tasty, and perhaps she should get the recipe.

Sighing, she helplessly looked at the door. "I'm sorry, Michael, but I am really busy! I have assignments!"

"Please!" he cried out in anguish and Hermione imagined him pressing his face into the door and running his hands up and down the furnished wood like a frightened child locked out of his parents' bedroom for the night.

And damn, she imagined he could pull off the look so well!

Throwing her quill aside, she got up from her chair and opened the door and sure enough Michael lost his balance and almost stumbled into her but was able to catch himself, a sheepish grin on his face.

"What is the problem?" Hermione dared to ask.

"I need you to take over another tutoring session for me. I cannot and will not help that wanker Draco Malfoy. Will you ple-"

"No!" Hermione squeaked and shut the door and pressed her back against it, barricading herself from Michael and his life-ruining favors.

"Please! I can't do it! I'll kill him, I will. I already had to help him once this week, and he was a horrible git the whole bloody time! You just wait and see, and I'll really kill him! I'll take advantage of his state! He can't bloody talk, you know? No wand, either!"

"If Draco is that incompetent at the present moment, he should be bearable, Michael!"

"In theory, yes, but in actuality, absolutely not!"

"Ask someone else!" Hermione suggested.

"I did! No one wants to do it!"

"What about Padma? She'd do it!"

"Justin forbade her! Can you believe that?!"

"Yes!"

"There's no one else, Hermione!"

"You, Padma, and I are not the only ones at Hogwarts capable of helping Malfoy, Michael. There has to be someone else! How about Parkinson? She'd do it!"

"She's become a myth! She and Ron have both become the stuff of legends. No one has seen them in ages and when people claim to have spotted them, they're not sure because they couldn't bear to look long enough to verify!"

"Ernie!"

"He said he'd rather die!"

"Greengrass!"

"I couldn't find her!"

"Luna!"

"She can't! She's holds an after-class tutoring session for the Firsties!"

"Zabini!"

"He just laughed in my face!"

"For the love of…Michael Coroner, just do it! Tutor him! I'm not going to do it! I already took Theo off of your hands for the next two weeks! I do not have spare time to do the same with Malfoy!"

"What do you want from me, Hermione? Just say it, and I'll do it!"

She frowned and cast her gaze on her desk and contemplated the idea of him doing her work but bashed that thought in an instant. She'd do her own work thank you very much!

Scoffing and rolling her eyes, there was nothing Michael could offer her to take on Draco for the next two weeks.

_Except for Draco himself,_ said a wicked voice inside her head. She flicked it away and gnawed on her bottom lip in consideration. And Merlin, she couldn't believe she was actually considering tutoring Draco when she had so much else to do. But there was one thing that Michael may be able to offer...

Slowly, she turned around and opened the door just a crack and pressed her face into the gap with what she hoped was a peeved expression on her face.

"Yes, then?" he inquired hopefully, breathing heavily in excitement.

"You're Professor Flitwick's other PA, correct?"

Michael's smile faltered a little. "Y-Yes."

"You correct the Gryffindors' and Slytherins' work, yes? Has he corrected the pop quizzes from Sixth and Seventh Year Charms, yet? The one he held on Monday morning?"

His smile disappeared completely and frowned. "N-No. I'm usually the one that corrects them, and I haven't been assigned to yet. Why?"

* * *

Hermione slowly walked the corridors of the castle, her destination being the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, a sick and tight lying heavily in her stomach. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Exchanging a swap like this with Michael was dangerous. They could very well get punished to the fullest extent if Professor Flitwick found out one of his PAs slipped in another student's pop quiz _after_ the actual time it occurred. When the Head Boy had actually agreed, although somewhat hesitantly, Hermione had been shocked at the risk he was willing to make to get out of tutoring Draco. For goodness sake, the boy wasn't that horrid!

Okay, he most certainly was.

Stopping in front of the DADA door, she pushed it open and slipped inside, letting the door close behind her when seeing Draco in a chair stooped over his textbook. As she walked further into the classroom, she noticed he was not simply stooped over his book but had his face pressed against the open pages and turned to the side. He was sleeping. Extending her hand, she combed her fingers through his hair to smooth the locks out of his face.

Yep, he was zonked out completely. There was even a drool puddle building up on the page beneath him. Smiling, she couldn't help but think Draco was so much more manageable this way and possibly even cuter than awake.

Her hand rested against his slacked cheek, the skin warm from his resting while his breath tickled the heel of her hand. The idea of leaving him this way and returning to her dorm popped up into her head but didn't when taking a good look at the page he had fallen asleep on. He most definitely needed some help with the chapter due to the contents being all wand work.

"Malfoy, wake up," she whispered gently.

The boy didn't budge or even twitch an eyelid.

"Wake up. We need to get started on your assignment." She patted his cheek gently. He stirred and his hand came up and placed it over hers to keep it against his face. Blinking his eyes open, he moved his lips against the heel of her hand and peppered the skin with wet, drooled kisses.

Flushing, Hermione wiggled her hand to get it free. "Malfoy, please."

His kisses seized and he looked up at her like he was just realizing she was there, a confused but pleased expression upon his features.

And then the kisses started again.

"I'll be tutoring you for the next two weeks," she explained while trying to wriggle her hand free. He finally let it go but stood up and kicked his chair away, and Hermione watched it scoot with a frown and then was grabbed roughly.

"Malfoy, what are you doing? It better not be what I think you're doing! I am here to help you and…Not that way, you pervert! I'm here to help you with your classes. We cannot-" Draco sat her bum on the desk- "Now what are you doing? No, I will not stay and…Oh, so now you need the chair?! What are you trying to _doooooo!_" she squealed when being pushed backwards, catching herself with her hands and then glaring at Draco who sat down back down in the seat in front of her and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, using his given name in hopes he would comply to her seriousness. "No! No, no, no, no, no! No, I'm not going to let you do that! Don't give me that look. I said no and…Stop it! I don't like my knees tickled! No, not there either! And most certainly not _there_! Wait! Why did you stop?!"


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: Hey, ya'll! I know this has been posted a bit later than actually planned, but I had to rewrite the chapter because it was no good. It's still not perfect. In fact, I think it is still downrigh crap, but I'm posting it anway. I'll try to make the next chapter better. I promise!

From the reviews I recieved, I got the impression many were unhappy with Hermione's choices. *Shrugs* Yeah, she's a bit OOC in this story but so are a lot of my characters. Also, some were worried about who she was going to end up with because it's looking like she wants to rut on Theo. Yes, Draco won the poll, but I only said that would increase his chances of winning over Hermione. So...yeah...the story is not done yet. You may think things are going a certain way now, but it may not look the same after a few chapter.

Hope the Chapter is enjoyable. I'm sorry for any mistakes. R&R, if you want.

* * *

Hermione stabbed straight through the untidy knot she made in her hair and yawned before resting her head on her hand while blurrily looking at Draco who appeared like he was having a hard time, as well. He was rapidly losing his gumption, trying with all his energy to dominate her wand.

"I'm sorry my wand isn't working for you," she said to the sweaty, frustrated boy. "Do you want me to go to Professor Dumbledore and work something else out? You can write essays about the spells instead of…learning them."

Draco glared at her, and her shoulders slumped.

"I know. I know. Stupid idea. You could bloody write a fifteen foot essay on how to Stun but it's not going to help if someone tries to attack you. Gah! I don't know what to do, Malfoy. My wand's rejecting you, and Michael refuses to help you. No one wants to help you." Hermione then frowned. "Why am I the only one who will do it?"

Draco slithered up to her and extended both his hands. She grunted and rolled her eyes, taking his hands. He pulled her up to her feet and held her close to him, his mouth silently replying, 'Because you want to shag me.'

"No, that's not it." Hermione shook her head, refusing to smile. "I could have done that a couple of hours ago, but I didn't, so I must not want to."

'Tease,' he mouthed and pecked her lips. She smiled at the fluttering sensation in her tummy and rose up on her tiptoes and pecked him again. Yawning once more, she then rested her head below his chin and closed her eyes, thinking he smelt nice. His hold tightened around her, and he rested his chin on top of her head and then started to sway.

"Malfoy, are you trying to dance with me?" she giggled sleepily and began to move with him. "We should be working."

"What an ingenious idea, Miss Granger," a low, nasally voice interjected that was filled with disgust.

Draco and Hermione jumped away from each other and stood rigidly affright, facing Professor Snape, both students wondering how they had not heard him enter the classroom.

"Professor Snape," Hermione squeaked nervously, dread tearing through the fluttering of her tummy Draco caused. There was no conceivable way she would depart from Snape's presence unscathed. She barely made it out alive the day before when tutoring for Theo.

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid to ask what you are doing here." Beat. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I'm…tutoring," she mumbled a stutter, shifting awkwardly on her feet and holding her hands behind her back. "M-Michael-"

Snape snarled. "You two come with me this instant."

Hermione saw that Draco looked the way she felt and groaned. There was no hope.

Quickly, she picked up her satchel and handed Draco his, both gathering their belongings and then headed towards the door where the professor was standing. His reproving glare drilled into them before he dramatically turned on his heel and guided them down the corridors of the castle, the two realizing Snape was taking them to the Headmaster's office.

The three came to the gargoyle where Snape muttered the password. The stone creature jumped to the side, letting the staircase be exposed. They climbed it and came to the double doors which opened for them, revealing Dumbledore sitting behind his desk and ruffling through a file.

"Fawkes, I do believe someone made a copy of this. Curious, curious." He looked up and gave a pleasantly surprised smile at his visitors.

"Professor Snape, Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Granger," he greeted warmly and looked down at the file he had in his hands with intrigue before setting it aside. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Headmaster, did we or did we not assign Michael Corner to assist Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott with their schoolwork during their temporary suspension of wand-use?"

"Indeed, we did, Severus. Is there a problem?" the Headmaster asked, his eyes twinkling with inquiry behind his spectacles.

"Yes. Yesterday, I became aware that Miss Granger had taken over Michael's responsibility for tutoring Mr. Nott. Today, I realized, she did the same for Mr. Malfoy. Headmaster, it was and still is not her duty to assist Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott."

"Oh, but it was very nice of her to do so, wasn't it?" Dumbledore lowered his chin and looked at Hermione above the lenses of his crescent-moon glasses, his blue eyes knowing and causing Hermione to flush in humiliation.

Draco grabbed her arm to get her attention. She looked at him and he mouthed, 'Theo?' at her, hurt and jealousy evident in his eyes. Self-loathing flooded Hermione and she went to say her apology to him but Dumbledore continued, "Especially since she is so busy with her Head Girl duties and impressive PA work with Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector. Are you not, Miss Granger?"

"I am," Hermione said softly with a nod.

"So why did you take over Mr. Coroner's duties?"

"He asked me to," Hermione half-lied.

Dumbledore smiled endearingly at her. "That was very polite of you to oblige, Miss Granger. Do you wish to continue or do you think it would be best if Professor Snape and I found someone else to take over the tutoring sessions for Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott?"

Hermione swallowed thickly and looked down at her toes. "With all due respect, Headmaster, I believe it would be best if another tutor could help them."

"Because you are simply too engaged in your other assignments, correct? There is no other reason?"

Hermione's flush turned absolutely viral. If someone were to touch her skin, surely they'd burn. Clenching her jaw, she shook her head. "No, Headmaster."

"Very well, then. I shall assign another to replace you and Mr. Coroner. You and Mr. Malfoy may go."

Hermione nodded and exited the Headmaster's office as fast as she could, practically running down the stone step into the corridor. She looked behind when reaching the bottom and saw Draco not far behind, determination on his face. Instead of running like she did with Theo, she waited for him to catch up to her. When he reached her with a betrayed frown on his face, she apologized, "I'm so sorry, Malfoy. This isn't fair to you, and it's not fair to Theo, either. It's hard for me to say no to you two which obviously indicates I cannot have either of you. I don't think we should see each other anymore. I mean…I know we weren't even really…You know what I mean. Besides, it's for the best. I'm behind in my studies, and I know you and Theo are, as well, but my helping you will not improve your academics. If anything," Hermione sighed, "they will worsen. I'm distracting you. I'm going to go now. Don't follow me, please."

Draco glowered at her delectable bum as it swished away from him in that blasted virginal length skirt. He then snarled at a passing first year Hufflepuff who squealed in fright and bolted, releasing a bit of anger.

But not all of it.

He was going to pay a visit to Nott.

Blast that delectable Mudblood! He would have her by Christmas if was the lasting rudding thing he did!

* * *

Little Jordan from Gryffindor shuffled along the hallways of the Hogwarts castle, his little pouch of Owl Posts in his delivery satchel. He had been appointed deliverer for the Gryffindor House at the beginning of the year. It was a fairly new job introduced to the school, having being organized two years ago. His name had been drawn out of McGonagall's hat after the Sorting Ceremony, and here he was.

His duty was delivering Owl Posts to House members if they had failed to show a mug when the Owls arrived in the Great Hall. He had just delivered a Howler to Neville Longbottom from his grandmum and a letter to Lavender Brown from her sister. Little Jordan only had one more to deliver, and his day would be complete.

Well, not really. He had letters addressed to Ronald Weasley dating back three weeks, but Little Jordan failed daily to find him. Other than the stack of that nightmare stuffed into his bag, there was only one letter left for the day.

Harry Potter's.

Little Jordan patted his satchel with care, having snuck a glance of who the letter was from.

Sirius Black.

Folding his arms to somewhat protect himself from the cold while exiting the castle. He made his way down towards the Black Lake, apprehension in each step he took. He could see his superior quite occupied at the present moment and contemplated waiting to give Harry the letter but decided against it.

"Ahem," he politely coughed at his preoccupied superior and his…whatever she was to Harry. Little Jordan was unsure what to call her because he was told by his older Housemates not recognize her as Harry's girlfriend. Many of the older male Gryffindors called Daphne Greengrass 'A Phase.'

Harry tore his lips off of Daphne and bashfully wiped his mouth and blushed when seeing Little Jordan.

"What?" A Phase sighed, not caring her hair was mussed and there was a saliva trail dribbling down the corner of her mouth.

"I-I have a delivery for you." Little Jordan looked away and extended the letter to Harry. "Bye."

Harry frowned at the envelope and the horrible scrawl that could only belong to his godfather.

"Who's it from?" Daphne asked and wiped her chin and then stared at her fingers, quirked an eyebrow, and licked them.

Ignoring her latter comment, Harry said, "It's from my godfather," and then tore open the seam and unfolded the parchment and skimmed the letter, a green sheen coloring his cheeks.

"That's nice," Daphne yawned and lay back down on the warm blanket Charmed warm to keep the fall chill away, closing her eyes.

"He wants me to come visit him for dinner this Saturday."

Daphne pouted and rolled over onto her side, supporting her head with her elbow and looked at Harry. "But you said since you were doing detention with Granger on Friday nights that Saturdays would be our days."

"It's just one Saturday evening, and we're spending time together now," Harry defended and ran a hand through his mussed hair, thinking of Sirius' behavior the last time he saw him and shuddered at the memory. "I mean…I guess I could simply write back and tell him I'm not able to visit, but…" He continued to read the rest of the letter. "Well, if you're interested, you can come with me. He said I could bring a friend."

Daphne's eyes bugged out of her head. "Are you inviting me to meet your family, Potter?"

"Er…I guess. You don't have to meet him if you…um…don't care to."

Licking her lips, Daphne wondered how long Ginny Weasley dated Harry before meeting Sirius Black. She then wondered if the girl had already known or met the man before seeing Harry.

"It's not that, Potter." Daphne smirked, realizing Potter was probably naïve when it came to courting in Magical England. Meeting the family was considered a gesture of commitment in a relationship.

A serious commitment.

"It's…" Daphne hesitated and then continued. "Maybe you can join me, too."

"So you'll come with me?"

"I guess. What will we be having?"

Harry looked startled by the question. "Oh…um…" He looked at the letter. "He didn't say. I can suggest something, I guess. He'll have Kreacher make it, anyway."

"Kreacher?"

"Sirius' House-elf," Harry explained. "I apologize now if he's not nice to you."

"He's not nice to guests?" Daphne sputtered, alarmed by that input. House-elves _had_ to be nice to the family they served and their guests.

"We…I mean Sirius and I are working on him."

"Do you and your godfather punish him?"

"Not really." Harry shrugged. "Sirius just yells at him, but Kreacher better be nice to you. If he's not then I'll-"

"A House-elf wouldn't dare be rude to me! If _Kreacher_ knows anything about old families, he'll know the Greengrasses and how we do not put up with ill-behavior from an elf."

"Um…" Harry smiled awkwardly. "Better not talk like that in front of Hermione."

He noticed Daphne's eyelid twitch and her zest semi-deflate and then remembered what she had said days earlier about having feelings for Nott who was currently doing his best in trying to catch Hermione's attention. Harry was not worried in the slightest about his friend. He'd beat Nott again if he had to, but Hermione was never going to let the boy get far. She was too brilliant to pursue a relationship with the son of the coot who tried to kill her the previous year.

"I _severely_ doubt House-elf rights are Granger's top priority at the moment. From what I've been hearing through the grapevine, she's quite _active_."

"Yeah, she certainly took on a load this year. She's PAs in two classes and has three Advance courses along with Head Girl duties. I really don't know how she does it."

"Head Girl duties, _I'm sure_," Daphne muttered under her breath and refrained from rolling her eyes at Harry.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Look, I know that you love…um…Nott, and he likes…"

"Granger," she grit out. "I'm aware. Anyone who has a set of eyes, blind or not, can see he wants her."

Harry blanched. "But if it makes you feel any better, Hermione would never consider him. Like ever. I know Hermione. Better than anyone, actually. You don't have to be jealous."

Daphne couldn't decide whether to throttle Potter or laugh at him…or do both. The boy was so...silly. Naïve seemed like such a harsh word for this situation, so silly would have to suffice. He had no idea what was going with Granger and Draco and Theodore.

Of course she wasn't supposed to know what was going on either between the three, but Pansy talks in her sleep when she bothers returning to the dormitory. Ronald Weasley must die or something during the night when he and Pansy sleep next to each other. The girl can sure chatter up a storm the moment she hits REM and is impossible to tune out.

All the Seventh Year Slytherin girls knew about the competition and have been keeping an eye out when it comes to Draco and Theo. The information they have acquired for this week: both boys have gotten under-the-skirt-and-shirt action from Granger since the beginning of the week. There was a bet between Daphne's fellow lady vipers about which doofus was going to win her heart. She did not participate in the pool for several reasons. The first reason was because both Draco and Theo were delicious, so Granger would naturally have a hard time picking which one to be her whipping boy. The second reason was because she hated the idea of Granger having done shite in getting Theo's attention. There was nothing the girl did in making him fall in love with her. She didn't seduce him or wear more makeup or shorten her skirt. All she did was blossom in all the right ways, and Theo went cuckoo.

To say it was a blow to her self-confidence was an understatement when finding out about Theodore's attraction to Granger. Daphne prided herself in being the prettiest girl in school, as well as one of the brightest. She was number seven in the class, thank you very much. What man would not want her? She spent extra time on her hair and only put the best of cosmetics on her skin. She always cleaned in the hard-to-reach places and smelled nice.

_Huff!_

"What's wrong? You seem down all of a sudden?" Potter asked.

Daphne shrugged and looked towards the school. "Nothing."

"Um…okay."

"It's just…Grrr!" she growled and then huffed, making Harry jolt and blink in surprise. "Am I not pretty? Does the mirror lie to me every bloody time I look at it? I just don't understand!"

Potter furrowed his scarred brow at her and shook his head. "What are you talking about? You're…" He blushed and stuttered out, "P-Pretty."

"Then why doesn't Theo love me?" Daphne asked, hating herself for making her pitiful thoughts exposed once again. This time she was without alcohol in her system, so the situation was much more pathetic. But she really, really needed to talk to someone about this. Astoria didn't want to listen. Gah! What were sisters for then if they weren't put on the effing planet to be vent upon?! To simply be pains in the arse?!

A lot of men would vastly reply to the question 'Well, Theo is an idiot, Sweetheart. You're too good for idiots. You don't want to get involved with idiots, do you?'

But Potter actually said, "Because he's in love with someone else."

Geesh, Potter, don't bleedin' sugar coat it!

"I mean _why does he love her and not me_?!"

Thinking back, it was probably not an ingenious idea to ask Potter why someone would love his best friend more than his…whatever Daphne was to him.

"Er…" Potter looked uncomfortable and moved his eyes from side to side like he was hoping someone would come by and kidnap him.

"Do you think Granger's prettier than me?" Daphne started to blubber and then inwardly cursed. Damn, she may have started her menses. Longingly, she gazed at Potter's bag and wondered if he had any chocolate in it.

"Er…Well…I would say um…You two have different…faces."

"Potter." Daphne stuck out her bottom lip at him. "Make me feel pretty."


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. It's been giving me trouble since the New Year. I don't know how many times I had to rewrite it to make it flow better. This chapter is supposed to be a transitional stage for Hermione, and I did my best with it. I'm not 100% satisfied, but it will have to do. If I want to get to the good stuff, then I'm going to have to say this is what it is, and I can't work on this chapter anymore.

Thank you to my readers, reviewers, and followers. I hope you like the chapter. The will get better, I promise. I feel like these past few chapters have not been as juicy. They will get there again. I promise.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Harry?" Hermione called out to her friend who was exiting the Gryffindor Tower. He turned to face her and she smiled at him. "I was hoping to catch you before dinner."

"Hey, Hermione, look, um, I have to go." He gestured with his hands.

"Go? No, Harry, you can't go anywhere. I was correcting your Arithmancy homework, and you need help. N.E.W.T.s are just around the corner, and you will not get a respectful score if you don't work harder."

"Can we talk about this later? I really have to go. Sirius wants me over for dinner tonight?"

"Oh," Hermione said with mild surprise. "Well, let me talk to you on the way to Apparition Grounds."

Harry attempted to tell his friend politely to go away, but she hopped right back into the one-sided conversation while following him down the Enchanted Staircase.

"While correcting number thirty-six on your homework, you completely got the formula wrong, Harry, which is absurd because it's right there in the beginning of the section. All you have to do is plug in the numbers and solve. It's really not that complicated. You learned this in primary school, didn't you? Anyway, you need a tutor like…now. Unfortunately, I haven't the time to help you, so I asked in a favor. Instead of Friday night detentions with me, you will be spending the evenings with Michael. He owes me some favors and…Harry, are you listening to me? This is serious! If you want to become an Auror, you have to get proper scores on your tests."

"I'm listening," grumbled Harry while stopping in front of the Great Hall.

"You better be or-"

"Are you ready, Potter?" asked Daphne who slinked up behind Harry and linked her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Um…" Hermione awkwardly said at Daphne. "Hello."

Daphne cocked at eyebrow. "Granger, how are you? Having _fun_ this year?"

Frowning, Hermione said nothing, bringing the Arithmancy book she had in her hand close to her chest and stuck out her chin. The slag knew nothing…right?

"Have a good time, Harry," Hermione quietly said and waved goodbye, entering the Great Hall, finding a sulking Ginny at the Gryffindor table.

"He's taking her to meet Sirius," Ginny mumbled and rested her head on her hand, staring blankly at her plate of roast beef. Sniffling, she turned to meet Hermione's gaze. "Can you believe that? Three weeks ago, Harry and I were talking about promise rings. How did _they_ happen?"

"I have no idea," Hermione sighed out and jolted when feeling a brush of lips against her cheek. Groaning, she turned to the right and leaned her head back to avoid Theodore's lips. He'd been doing that for the past couple of days, coming up to kiss her on the cheek and then catching her lips when she turned her head.

"No," she said and gingerly shook her head at him, causing him to frown, his bottom lip protruding slightly while backing away. She turned her attention back to Ginny who appeared to be having an internal battle. "Something the matter?"

"Have you ever made a promise not to tell someone something to know a secret in trade and when you were told the secret, you knew you should say something but the consequences are kind of…icky?"

"What did you do?" asked Hermione, resting her head on her hand and nicking a grape from the fruit bowl in the middle of table, sparing a smile at Neville who was eating across the table. He flushed and returned the smile timidly.

"I don't know if it's worth saying," Ginny huffed. "But I made a promise not to say things, but I really know I should but…I can't get Harry back if I look horrible."

Hermione opened her mouth to comment but was interrupted by something hitting the back of her head. It bounced off onto the Gryffindor table. It was a cherry tomato. She turned around and looked behind her and caught eyes with Malfoy at the Slytherin table. He winked at her and lifted his hands, a small paper crane in his hands. He blew at the creation, and it flew towards her at an impressive speed, kissing her nose and landing on her shoulder.

"What does it say?" Ginny asked uninterestedly.

"I don't know," Hermione mumbled said and stuffed the crane into her pocket and turned back around to avoid the hurt in Draco's eyes. "They need to leave me alone. Why won't they leave me alone?"

Ginny opened her mouth and then snapped it back shut, muttering curses underneath her breath. "I wish I could effing say."

"…So…"

"Yeah?"

"How are things? I know since what happened earlier this week with Zabini, you've been…off."

"What was I thinking, Hermione? I mean," Ginny wiped at her eyes, "I just…attacked him. All I could think was…was…"

"Yes?" Hermione urged.

"At first, I thought it was because I wanted him to shut up. Then I thought I did it because I was angry with Harry and wanted to prove to myself that I could move on just as quickly as he did. I mean, really move on. Not pretend, but now…"

"Yes?"

Licking her lips nervously, Ginny whispered, "I haven't talked to Blaise since Monday."

"Okay…that's good, right?"

"I thought so, but…I think I…sort of…miss him."

Floored, Hermione choked on her own breath. "Wha-"

"It's mental, right? He did nothing but drive me spare these past few weeks while I tutored him, but I've been really thinking about it and-"

"Ginny, please, you are not in your right mind. You love Harry, remember."

"I know, and I really do. I want him back, but…why did I keep pushing him away? Why did it only take an argument and jealousy to make me snap? What if the reason why I never slept with Harry was because-"

"Gin, don't be silly! You didn't because you wanted to wait!"

"-we don't belong together."

"You do," Hermione stated firmly. "Blaise is-"

"An imbecile. I know. I think I hate him more than I like him, especially what he said to me on Monday of which I can't tell you, but I have felt more excitement with him in the past month than I have felt with Harry in the past year-in-a-half."

"It's hormones," Hermione informed. "They like to mess with your brain."

Ginny shrugged and turned around to look at the Slytherin table where Blaise was eating his roast beef.

"He excites me. Isn't that weird?"

"Yes."

"Come off it. Like you're not excited about two blokes lapping at your heels."

"I'm not," Hermione honestly said and scratched the back of her head, catching the Theo leaving the Great Hall, his shoulders slumped. "It's…It's horrible. I think I…"

"Yes?"

Biting her lip, Hermione then confessed, "It's silly. Stupid. I know it's possible, but I always found the notion completely far-fetched. Nevertheless, it's possible to...you know…with two people."

"Have sex? I think so. You want to do it with both of them?"

"No!" Hermione blushed and Neville across the table started choking on a bite of roast beef, Seamus pounding him on the back to help dislodge the meat.

"Then what?" Ginny quirked an eyebrow.

"Love," Hermione whispered and then stuck her tongue out like she licked something bitter and then continued, "I think I lo-"

"You can't love two people, Hermione," Ginny stated firmly, shaking her head.

"Yes you can. It's entirely possible. The human being is capable of all kinds of complexities," Hermione defended and spared a glance at Draco at the Slytherin table. He was sulking into his mashed potatoes, and she contemplated the idea of going over there and feeding him.

"Alright, you can, but you can't have both."

"I know. That's why I've told them to leave me alone."

"And?"

"I hate it. I miss them."

Ginny nodded like she was debating something and then asked, "Who do you miss the most?"

"It's hard to say. I miss Malfoy because it's so much fun to shout at him, but I also miss Theodore because he's so considerate and…" Hermione grinned shyly, "kind of naughty. I never told you about where I wandered off to on my birthday trip at Hogsmeade but…Malfoy is very naughty, too. He completely made me late for Monday morning Charms. I let him…" Hermione leaned forward and whispered into Ginny's here, the girl's eyes nearly popping out of her head.

"Great Godric," wheezed Ginny and started fanning herself, her cheeks pinking up. "Wow."

"And he fed me candy simultaneously."

"But you haven't…with either of them?" her friend asked and Hermione shook her head.

"No."

"Do you want to?"

Thinking about the question before answering, Hermione eventually nodded her head but said nothing.

"Which…Who…Malfoy or Nott?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Hermione said uncertainly and then sat up straight and squared her shoulders in determination. "I should make a pros and cons list for both of them."

"…Okay."

Hermione sensed Ginny's confusion and then grimaced and shook her head. "No, I won't do that. I'll do something else."

"Like what?"

Setting her book on the table, she rested her forearms around it and stared at the cover for no particular reason, her thoughts miles away. Well, not really. Just at the Slytherin table and wherever Theodore wandered off to.

"I love them both, right?" Hermione asked out loud to herself.

"So you say," Ginny commented doubtfully.

"So making a pros and cons list would demean that feeling. I should love everything about them, even their unattractive quirks."

"There are many, but where are you going with this?"

"I don't want to push them away anymore. I have to make a choice. I'll leave it up to fate."

"That doesn't make any sense, Hermione."

"It makes perfect sense. The next time Draco or Theodore try anything with me, I'm going to let him catch the Snitch."

Ginny blinked. "You're…"

"I'll let fate choose the boy, and then I will do the rest."

"As in…"

"I'm going to do it. I think I'm ready. No," Hermione said calmly with a smile. "I _know_ I'm ready. I want this."

"Maybe you should think about this more. Don't go rushing into this like I did."

"I don't think I'm rushing. I think I'm being rational. I'm miserable, Gin. I miss them terribly, but I know I can't have both. So," Hermione stood up from her seat, "the next time one of them come after me, I'm going to let him catch me and then-"

"You're out of your mind."

"No, I'm being practical. This is practicality."

"Like you said to me earlier, this is hormones."

"No, it's not," argued Hermione. "What you did with Blaise, that's hormones. What I'm doing is-"

"It's not love. You cannot love them. They are not loveable. They are physically blessed creatures of the slimy and scaly. Hermione, I beg of you to really ponder this decision. Do you really want to live the rest of your life knowing you gave it all to one of _them_? It's not something you can take back."

"Don't compare what I have with those boys with whatever you and Zabini have…or don't have. You're fascinated by him. You like him as much as you like having a frozen lolly on a chilly day. You're only torturing yourself by indulging in something that looks good and taste yummy, but you know it's going to leave your bones aching."

"And you think Malfoy _and_ _or_ Nott aren't going to do the same thing? Don't forget what they are, Hermione! Malfoy is never going to tell his parents about you! He's a coward! Nott wouldn't have had the courage to even talk to you if you hadn't offed his dad!"

"Ginny!" hissed Hermione and looked around bashfully at the people staring at her and her friend. "You're being loud!"

"I bet they still call you…you know…the M word behind your back. Snakes, they don't change. Their scales may turn colors, but they are still snakes. I know what Zabini and I have…or don't have is shite. I know he's an arsehole! I know it's not going to go anywhere. He wants someone else, and I still want Harry."

"I'm not stupid, Ginny! I know they're not Hufflepuff material, but they care about me. Theodore wants…This is absurd, but I think he wants to have me…even after school and…don't give me that look. I'm not saying I want to run away with him into the sunset, but he wants me that much."

"He's a creep!"

"And Malfoy-"

"Is creepier!"

Hermione closed her mouth and pressed her mouth into a thin line in aggravation. A part of her knew Ginny was right to some extent, but this was not about her best friend. This was about her making an imperative, adult decision.

"I understand you're worried," Hermione replied softly. "And I'm grateful, but I'm going to do this. I'm ready."

Ginny gifted her a look like she was a three year old climbing onto her first toy broom. "If I can't persuade you, I guess I'll be here when everything falls apart. I'm not going to be one of those friends who are all 'Don't come crying to me when everything goes to hell.' I always hated those kinds of people."

"Thanks, Ginny. I appreciate that, but it won't fall apart," Hermione assured and straightened her spine in determination and nodded firmly. "But as a friend, I would like your opinion. Who do you think is more suitable, Draco or Theodore?"

* * *

"I said a friend, Harry," Sirius hissed at his godson and shot a revolted glare at the Daphne's back. A meter or so away, she was half-facing the covered portrait and leaning towards the muttering with an intrigued, cocked brow.

"She is my friend," Harry whispered back indigently and began to rock back and forth on his heels.

"I thought perhaps a friend I already knew like Ron, Ginny, Hermione, even that Longbottom boy."

"I told you Ginny and I are no longer together. As for the others-"

"When was this? I hadn't-"

"I sent you an owl two weeks ago telling you what happened."

"I can't place the memory. I've been occupied at Andromeda's for the majority of the time and-"

"So you're peeved at me because you don't check your owls?"

"Of course not, but I would have liked to know about your decision in dating another…" Sirius blanched and shuddered, "girl."

"Stop acting like you're about to have a seizure. Daphne is great. She understands me."

Sirius frowned and narrowed his eyes back on Daphne who was inching away from the Walburga's portrait with a frightened expression on her face. "So she's one of _those_ kinds of girls."

"What do you mean by _those_?"

"Nothing. Just remember all that I told you on Sunday. Unless…it does not apply because you and she are…" Harry's godfather hinted hopefully.

"We're careful. She doesn't…you know…unless all the necessities have been taken care of."

Sirius forced a pained smile and quietly said, "You know, Harry, I liked Arthur Weasley's daughter. She reminded me a lot of your mum. Hermione, too, in a way. How is Hermione? To be honest, I was hoping it was her you would decide to bring."

"She's buried beneath her books and Head Girl duties, only coming out for air every few days." Pause. "Or to tell me how bad I am at Arithmancy."

"Is she…dating?"

Harry grimaced. "Why? Don't tell me you're going to try and fulfill that fantasy you told me about last year at Christmas when you were drunk from the eggnog. That was disturbing. She's my friend. Practically my sister and young enough to be your child. Just because she's of age, doesn't mean-"

"Harry, all I would have to do is show interest, and I could have her," Sirius drawled with a sarcastic, egotistical smirk. "Alas, I was not really thinking about that. I was a bit worried. Since what happened last year at Hogsmeade with her, I want to ensure she's fine. That no one is out to harm her."

"Not to worry. I take care of all the gits who get to close. Had to do it a couple of times to the same one. Me and Ron both gave him a good beating, but I think we sent the message blaring to all. No one's been bothering her since."

"Really?" Sirius asked in an unconvinced tone.

"Well, I think Michael, the Head boy, fancies her. Hermione can take him, though, if he starts breathing too close. Other than him, no. Funny thing, I always thought Ron and she would get together this year. He's dating someone else now. Weirdly enough, it's Pansy Parkinson. I don't know if I ever told you about her but-"

"No need. Everyone knows of the Parkinsons," Sirius said. "I am curious. Is she not a Slytherin? I always had the feeling the Weasleys were…"

"Unimpressed with the Inbred Viper Bunch? I have no idea what happened. Ron hated them more than any of his siblings, I think, but out of nowhere, he and Parkinson are snogging. It's strange." Harry scratched the back of his head and then started messaging his forehead, feeling the grooves of his scar. "This year has been the weirdest year of all years, and I've faced some odd ones. And I'm ninety-five percent sure Ginny cheated on me with a Slytherin. She's dating him now."

Sirius blinked and folded his arms. "You lost a Weasley to a Slytherin, Harry? What did you do? Have I not raised you proper? Is this my fault?" Harry's godfather nodded and looked away sullen dismay. "This is my fault. I went wrong somewhere. Where did I go wrong? I can't…I need to sit down."

Sirius left Harry and Daphne and went into the dining room, sitting down and leaning over to rest his forehead on his empty plate.

"Is he alright?" asked Daphne when coming up beside Harry and looking into the dining room.

"He will be," replied Harry and offered his arm, smiling when the girl linked her own around it and rested her head on his shoulder. "He's not used to us."

Daphne grinned knowingly. "He wishes you brought someone else. I expected this."

"Are you terribly bothered by it? We can leave and go back to school," offered Harry.

"Hosh tosh, Potter. You think I'm weary of your godfather? No offense, but he's as frightening as a rabid puppy. With that said, is it time to eat? I'm peckish."


	39. Chapter 39

Raspberry peach.

Cherry Almond.

Hmmm.

Raspberry peach.

Cherry almond.

Hmmm.

Hermione pursed her lips pensively at her reflection and went cross-eyed to look at them. Technically, both glosses would produce a clear sheen which may or may not cause her mouth to appear redder. However, color was not her tribulation. She wanted to know which gloss would taste better to a boy, and the clock said 7:30 so she would have to decide quickly.

"Michael," she called to the Head Boy and rushed out of her room and saw the Head Boy about to leave. "Don't leave yet. I have to ask you a question."

"About?" he inquired while slinging his satchel upon his shoulder. "I mean…I already said I would tutor Harry."

"It's not about that, but thank you for doing so. I want to ask you something because you are a boy, and I need a boy's input."

"…um…alright. What do you need to know?" he asked uncertainly.

Holding up the two tubes of gloss in front of her, she jiggled one hand to put his attention on it. "Raspberry peach or," she jiggled her other hand, "cherry almond?"

Blinking rapidly, Michael stuttered out, "Wh-what? What are you talking about?"

"I think it's plainly obvious," Hermione huffed and stomped her foot. "If you were to kiss me, what flavor would you prefer to taste on my lips?"

"Her-Hermione," Michael stuttered again and blushed, yanking at the color of his robe, purposefully scraping his fingernail across his neck to see if he was dreaming. He sincerely hoped he wasn't.

"Well," Hermione hinted impatiently and started to tap her foot.

"Def-Definitely the p-peach one." He nodded eagerly and she rewarded him with a relieved smile.

"Thank you, Michael," she said and slid one of the glosses into her robe pocket and uncapped the other, coating her lips with the thin gel, making them look positively wet and plump and red. She then pocketed that gloss and bent over and reached into her doorway and pulled out her satchel and descended down the stairs towards him. When she got closer, he slightly hunched over and puckered his lips and then contorted his features, boggled when she paid no mind and walked passed him and out of the Head Common Room.

Upon entering the Great Hall, she swept her gaze over the Slytherin table and saw her prizes, both failing to notice her. They sat with her heads down facing their eggs and biscuits. She sat down at the Gryffindor table, purposefully choosing a seat where she could see them.

All through breakfast, neither boy popped his head up to look at her which Hermione found incredibly discerning. They always noticed her arrival in the Great Hall. Why hadn't they yet?

On her way to Charms, Hermione readied herself to be drug into a broom closet, an empty classroom, anywhere by one of the boys. Her steps were careful and planned but her heart was increasingly being filled with rejection. The Charms classroom was up ahead and-

Draco and Theodore brushed passed her, each boy gently nudging her arms as they had walked by. Simultaneously, they half-turned their bodies to greet her with a nod and a polite smile, continuing to walk towards class.

Feet stopping, Hermione saw both boys enter the classroom, her mouth slightly agape in unpleasant shock, theories swarming inside her head as to why she got nothing from either of them except for a bloody brush off and an unpromising smile. How dare they?!

"Something the matter, Granger?" Daphne asked while walking by with her hand in Harry's.

"No," Hermione said hurriedly and straightened her shoulders. "Nothing is wrong. Why would there be anything wrong? Nothing is wrong. I'm going to Charms class like I do every Monday morning. Why would there be anything wrong?"

"Hermione," Harry started with a wince. "She was being…"

"I was being sarcastic, Granger. I don't really care what's got you gaping like a slapped fish in the middle of the school hallway, but now that I'm here…" Daphne leaned forward and swept a free finger across Hermione's lips, startling the girl so much, she stumbled backwards where the wall broke her fall.

"What are you doing?" She looked at Harry. "What is she doing?"

Harry shrugged and Daphne stuck the finger in her mouth and smirked around the digit. She let go of the boy's hand and walked towards Hermione and whispered very lowly so he couldn't hear, "For a little advice from someone who _knows_ Draco and Theodore, I'll let you know that they don't care for raspberry peach. It's a little too 'I'm a _dirty_ thirteen year old looking for a good, _pure_ snog.'"

Offended and more than a little self-conscious, Hermione lowered her chin to the hemline of her robe. However, her self-degradation didn't last long. She pinned a glare on Daphne and stood tall, using the sleeve of her robe to wipe the gloss off her lips.

"Thanks for that reminder," Hermione whispered back, loving when Daphne's smirk faded. "Draco and Theodore seemed to prefer flavoring my mouth with whatever they please. Silly me, they like it best when I come to them like a fresh canvas where they paint me with candy and their saliva."

Too confounded for words for a brief moment, Daphne then gave a queer smile. "I always knew you were filthy slag waiting to happen, and all it took was two pretty, pretty boys to show interest."

"Surprisingly, Greengrass, _green_ isn't your color."

"Is that the best you have?" Daphne mocked and glared. "I'm not jealous of you."

"For a little advice from someone who _knows_ Theodore, I'll let you know he doesn't care for pining ex-girlfriends…if you were even _that_. As for Draco, you don't even make a blip on his radar, but I doubt you care about that."

"I don't pine!" Daphne affronted with a hiss.

"You pine. I'll be honest, though, Theodore hasn't really noticed. Does that make you feel better?"

Daphne snarled.

"Didn't think so."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Harry piped up from behind Daphne. Both girls frowned and looked at him. His hands were in his robe pockets with a neutral expression on his face.

"Harry," Hermione started but her friend held up a hand to stop her.

"Is it true?"

Hermione hesitated before answering evenly, "It's none of your business."

"But it's Daphne's?" inquired Harry. "Because apparently she knows things that I-"

"You don't even know if they're true, Harry. All I said was that it wasn't your business."

"It's true, Potter," Daphne clipped and then went over to him and kissed him on the cheek before walking away. "I'm going to class. Sit by me when you're done playing with your friend."

"You're going to believe her over me?" Hermione asked.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "It's like you don't understand that I heard you, Hermione. I heard what you said to Daphne. I would like to believe you were just saying things to get a rise out of her, but it makes so much sense now."

"Really?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "Not at all. You and Malfoy and Nott. What the hell, Hermione?!"

"I'm not going to explain it to you, Harry. I didn't hound you when out of know where, you start…_dry humping_ Greengrass in public settings. It wasn't my business, so I think it's fair you give me the same respect."

Harry glowered at her for a moment before walking away from her and disappearing into the Charms classroom. Hermione slumped against the wall, feeling guilty for letting her temper loose because of something as mundane as wounded pride.

Gathering her energy, she followed behind Harry, nearly making it to the Charms classroom when a pair of small hands shot out of the slightly open door of a broom closet and pulled her inside by the robe. She stumbled inside the darkened area with a sharp intake of breath, adjusting her eyes to see who had caught her off guard, knowing it was neither Draco nor Theodore. She was about to voice a question when a small, pubescent voice of a boy whispered _Lumos _and the tip of his wand ignited and bathed a rounded face in with yellow light, his teeth bared in triumph.

Hermione stared for a moment before saying, "Mr. Pucey, what are you doing?"

"I've been sent by my Blood Superior to deliver this to you," the boy said and with his free hand, held out an envelope that had _Granger_ messily inked in horrid quill-man-ship on the front of it.

Her eyes widened in fright and she stepped away from the envelope and towards the door, shaking her head. "No."

"Yes." The boy waved the letter pointedly. "I've been trying to give this to you for days. Adrian said he'd pluck my owl, roast it, and then feed it to his friends if I fail to deliver this to you."

"That's…unfortunate," Hermione commented, not really hearing what the boy said, her back plastered against the door. "Um…" With haste, she opened the door and slipped back into the hallway and dashed into the Charms classroom and stole a seat in the back next to Ginny.

"You're all flushed," her friend commented and cast her eyes on Draco and Theodore who were both sitting across the room. "And it's not because of them."

"I'm fine," Hermione stiffly replied and set her wand out in front of her in preparation for the lesson.

* * *

Hermione spent the week _not_ getting dragged into broom closets by Draco or Theodore. The boys would wink at her, smile at her, send her candy via owl delivery, but would not attempt anything further, causing Hermione to lose her nerve. The gumption she had on Saturday was deflating rapidly, and her mind was beginning to revert back to a reserved state. Apart of her wondered if the boys didn't fancy her as much as they used to and were slowly losing interest in her. It was just as well, wasn't it? She wasn't a particularly attractive human being compared to some like Greengrass, Lavender, or even Ginny. There were those who told her she had grown up pretty, but Hermione decided they had been more fascinated with the transformation more than actually being intrigued by her present features.

As she sat in her dormitory holding an old picture of her, Harry, and Ron Sunday morning, she tugged at her hair pensively with her other hand and then looked into her vanity.

"What do you think?" she asked her reflection.

"It's more bearable for me to look at you now, yes," her reflection replied.

"Was I really that ugly?" Hermione sullenly inquired.

Her reflection sighed and leaned towards her while resting her chin by the support of her elbow. "Listen, Granger, who cares what you looked like four years ago?"

"A lot people do, though. Sometimes I think people still see me as thirteen."

Her reflection pursed her lips in amusement and saucily leered at Hermione and said, "Draco and Theodore don't see you like that."

"Then why haven't they tried _anything_ this week?" Hermione whined.

"I don't know. I'm just your reflection, Silly Girl." With that said, her mirror-self moved to mimic Hermione and then stilled.

A knock on the door tore her out of her musings, and she grimaced. It could only be Michael. Maybe if she said nothing, he would go away.

"I made cupcakes!" he shouted through the barrier.

Hermione set the picture down with a soft exhale and walked over to her desk to pack her satchel, knowing a trip to the library would be a perfect distraction from thinking about Draco, Theodore, and cupcakes. She needed to work on her Ancient Runes project, anyway. If she finished it soon, she wouldn't have to worry about it in December before the holiday break.

* * *

Dumbledore smiled endearingly at the two boys across his desk and waved his hand; two wands glided over from an open cabinet and hovered between the three.

"Have you two learned anything from your experiences these past two weeks?" he asked them.

Draco and Theo refrained from shooting the old codger nasty looks but instead nodded in unison, trying to look as cute and chastised as two Slytherin boys could accomplish.

So they did it very badly.

"Yes," croaked Draco, his voice raspy and uneven from fourteen days of misuse, and Theodore merely nodded. Their wands were grabbed and both were granted permission to leave the office. When entering the hallway and making way towards the Great Hall, Draco spoke up bitterly, "Git."

"Ponce," Theodore muttered back.

"I've been wanting tell you that for two weeks."

"Same here."

"I'm taking Granger to the Halloween Ball," Draco said smugly, lifting his chin and smirking.

"I'm taking Granger to the Halloween Ball, Draco. Not you."

"We'll see, won't we? You don't even like dances, Theo."

"With Granger by my side, I'd suffer with a smile"

The two Slytherins bickered heavily, unknowing a pair of panicked eyes watching them from the shadows. Little Taylor Pucey emerged from the darkness of his corner with an envelope clutched firmly in his grasp. He had come towards the Headmaster's office in hopes of gaining a favor from the old coot.

Looking down at the crinkled parchment in his hands, a surge of fear stabbed at his chest. There would be no time to enlist the help of Dumbledore. He would have to go straight to the target himself, so he turned around and madly dashed towards the library. He slowed his pace upon entering. Stealthily, he crept from aisle to aisle in the Hogwarts library with determination crinkling his brow and the corners of his mouth. Taylor's prey had evaded him all week, and fright plagued him because of it. One would think his prey would have been captured by now, however; the sneaky kitten was always on the move or never alone. But today was going to be different. The kitten's playmates were elsewhere, many of them in the Great Hall, so the slippery feline was alone and defenseless and right around the corner.

Heart thumping wildly and a feral grin in place, he slipped around the corner and saw the kitten in her solitary element. Quickly, before before she would notice his approach and run away, he dashed forward and slapped his hand on the table with the letter trapped beneath. Kitten bristled and popped her head up from her books and narrowed wide, slanted eyes.

"You have avoided me spectacularly, Miss Granger," Taylor grit out angrily at the Head Girl. "Because of you, my Blood Superior has been upset with me."

"How terrible for you," she dully responded while gathering her schoolwork in haste.

"You can't run from me now. I've caught you, Granger, and it's taken me a bloody hell of a long time. I will not report today as a failure. You will take this letter," Taylor gestured to it beneath his palm with a tilt of his chin, "and you will respond. If you do so, I will return home for the hols and not be vanquished upon arrival."

"No," Hermione said with a firm shake of her head. "I will not take that letter. You need to tell your brother everything was a big misunderstanding, and he needs to move on."

"I told him that last bit," huffed Taylor, and he stomped his foot. "I told him you were nothing but a filthy-blooded girl, but then he yelled at me and said I was never going to get laid when I grow up."

Ignoring the boy, Hermione finished stuffing her things into her satchel and tried to walk away but discovered her feet wouldn't budge. Shooting a vexed look at him, she starchily asked, "Did you cast a Sticking Charm on my feet?"

"Yes, but I-"

"Ten points from Slytherin!" Hermione angrily deducted and received an affronted glare from the boy.

"You know, I don't know why Adrian likes you! You are nothing but a mean Mudblood!" He picked up the letter and chucked it at her and sprinted from whence he came.

Hermione's gaping face morphed into a scowl, and she begrudgingly picked up the letter from the floor and waved her wand at her feet. Sitting back down at the table, she eyed the letter scathingly. Why couldn't the boy forget about her and busy himself with the Amsterdam night life.

Hermione stared at the wrinkled envelope for a full minute and then sucked in a resolute breath and waved her wand over it. At first nothing happened and relief almost washed over her, but then the letter elevated and suspended at eyelevel, the creased paper forming a mouth shape of sort.

"Granger?" said the letter and Hermione began nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Granger, is that you?" the letter asked.

She cringed at the utter hope in Adrian's voice and caved. "I'm here, Mr. Pucey. What is it that you want?"


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: Third update of the week! Celebrate!

**To HPDWSWFan95:** Sometimes I do feel like I have to end chapters in cliff-hangers. Sometimes they just happen that way. Last chapter was on purpose. This one just happened like so. I'm sorry I didn't update right away but had to make the chapter presentable before posting. Thank you for the review. :)

**To Vaneesa85:** Let's see what Adrian has to say. :)

**To my reviewers, followers, readers:** Thank you so much! Enjoy Chapter 40!

* * *

_"Granger?" said the letter and Hermione began nibbling on her bottom lip._

_"Granger, is that you?" the letter asked._

_She cringed at the utter hope in Adrian's voice and caved. "I'm here, Mr. Pucey. What is it that you want?"_

"Don't be like that, Kitten," whined Adrian. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?"

"We hardly know each other, Adrian. How can you have missed me? We only met properly two weeks ago."

"But we talked all night. Merlin, Hermione, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've been trying to get ahold of you for ages since the party. Why are you avoiding me?"

"Yes, you sent your little brother to hunt me down. I would find it funny if it weren't so sad."

"Would you have preferred if I showed up at the school and burst through the Great Hall at breakfast and snatched you?"

"No, I would have not!" yelped Hermione, a flush warming her cheeks at the humiliating image.

A crinkly, papered titter escaped the letter. "It would have been quite scandalous, I admit. I reckon I'd be the most wanted man alive. All Potter would have to do is snap his fingers and blow a raspberry, and every Auror in the United Kingdom would come yipping at his feet in haste to serve. So what do you say, Granger? Run away with me and let's make things interesting."

Unable to contain it, a sharp laugh erupted from Hermione. "That would be ridiculous."

"Which part? The part where I kidnap you or the part where you run away with me?"

"Both."

"It would be fun." Adrian sang the word 'fun', and Hermione laughed again.

"I don't think so."

A beat of silence hung between them until Adrian spoke again, seriousness laid thick in his tone. "I want to see you, again."

Hermione stared at her hands. Despite Adrian not actually being in the room and seeing her, she could not bear to stare at his voice, afraid he would sense her thoughts, her regrets. To put it plainly to herself, she was having a bad year and near to the point of regretting coming back to Hogwarts. Her friendships were unraveling and matters of the heart, an element Hermione had always been able rise above, ruled over her body and mind.

And then there was Adrian Pucey. She was never supposed to meet him. Well, she had seen him before as he was a previous Hogwarts student, but she had never officially talked to him until the night of his party. When he had immediately sent her off down that hallway, she had thought it would be a loo, but no. It was a bedroom and by the time she had realized that maybe she should fetch Harry and leave because the host was a creep; said host had arrived with the first aid kit.

_Adrian was superbly gentle extracting the glass embedded into her hand with his pair of medical tweezers as Hermione sat on the edge of the modest, queen size bed with a thick, dark green comforter beneath her. She winced in pain as the boy in front of her, who was sitting on a stool, pulled out a large, bloodied piece of glass wedged from the palm of her hand. Her bottom lip protruded and a tear escaped down her cheek as did a small, shivering exhale of breath._

"_Kitten," Adrian cooed. "I'm sorry it hurts, but I can't give you any healing potions yet without retrieving all the glass first. You may get an infection."_

_Hermione somberly nodded. "I know."_

"_I'd do it with my wand, but I'm afraid it would create more wounds, and one nasty gash is bad enough."_

"_It's okay. I know that."_

_After a beat of silence and another sizeable chunk of glass removed, Adrian piped up again. "So, Granger," Hermione gave him a look of shock at the referral to her name, "what brings you here to my party? Last I heard, you were gone from the Magical World and some said for good."_

"_You remember me?" asked Hermione, and a blush rouged her cheeks._

"_Remember you?" Adrian guffawed, his shoulders shaking in mirth. "Aside from publicly killing a man with a lolly stick, you are Hermione Granger. You are a thorn in every Hogwarts student academic arse, Sweetheart, and Harry Potter's best friend."_

"_Oh," whispered Hermione, her blush darkening and she nibbled on her bottom lip whilst studying her lap with intense severity._

"_At first I wasn't sure it was you. You've," he smirked wickedly, "grown up. But then Potter unknowingly confirmed your identity to me, and I also recognized your arse."_

_Hermione popped her eyes up and gaped at him. "Excuse me?!"_

"_Your bum is delectable, Granger," Adrian nonchalantly stated as if he were telling her the weather of tomorrow morning._

"_That's very rude." Hermione shifted and tried to pull her hand away from him, so she could get away. His grip, however, was steady on her wrist._

"_I'm complimenting you, love."_

"_It's not a very polite compliment you make to a girl, Mr. Pucey."_

"_Call me Adrian, but I compliment girls on their physical attributes all the time, and they like it."_

"_I'm not that kind of girl! Now let me go!" Hermione snapped and tried to pull her hand away again. _

"_No, you still have glass in your hand."_

"_I don't care! You are a vile, smarmy pig!"_

_Adrian let out a sharp chortle. "You are an adorable, sweet kitten, and I love the way your freckles darken on her nose when you're furious."_

_Hermione made a disgusted sound and slapped his shoulder with her free hand. "You are positively full of nothing but yourself! I want you to stop touching me!"_

"_You still have glass in your hand."_

"_Then I will sever it, so I can get away from you faster."_

"_Merlin, all I did was compliment you and you get all feisty." Adrian grinned and licked his teeth. "I like your legs, too. You've got a nice pair of shapely, getaway sticks. I want to stick out my tongue and lick you from ankle to-"_

_SLAP!_

_His head whipped to the side, and he winced in pain as he blinked in pained surprise from the blow. "Ow."_

"_Pervert! Let me go!" Without waiting for him to do just that, Hermione was able to get back her hand and scramble off the bed. She ran towards the door, but Adrian was not far behind. He grabbed the crook of her elbow and whipped her around, so she slapped him again._

"_Ow! Stop that! I was just going to say 'to your knee.'"_

_SLAP!_

"_Grr! Fine, I'm sorry!"_

"_Apology accepted. Now let me go, and I will leave."_

"_No, I still have to take the rest of the glass out."_

"_I'm sure I can wait until the Portkey back to Hogwarts."_

"_Don't be stubborn, witch."_

"_If you do not unhand me, Mr. Pucey, I will make you unhand me."_

"_I just don't want you to get ill because of your tenacious behavior."_

"_I will count to three."_

"_Granger."_

"_One."_

"_What are you going to do?"_

"_Two."_

"_Hex me?"_

"_Three."_

"_All I want to do is help."_

_Hermione lifted up uninjured hand and shoved her wrist a few inches from his eyes and forcefully pushed the secret button on her Mickey Mouse watch. Liquid ejaculated out of the device and sprayed into Adrian's eyes._

"_Ah!" He let go of her arm and stumbled backwards as his hands flew to his eyes. The backs of his legs collided with the bed, and he fell backwards and writhed on it while shouting muffled curses._

_Regret washed over Hermione and thought her actions to be a bit uncalled for. He hadn't really hurt her. He had merely refused to let her leave. She could have simply and un-painfully _Stupefied_ him. Squirting pepper spray into his eyes may have been a bit overkill._

"_I'm sorry," Hermione rushed out and scampered towards him and laid her hands on his arms. "I'm so sorry. That was stupid."_

"_Gwt fz dth."_

"_What are you saying?" Hermione gently asked, her good hand rubbing soothing circles on his arm._

_His hands moved away from his face, and Hermione winced at the angry, swollen redness around his watery eyes._

"_What was that?!" he moaned. "And why would you do that?"_

"_I'm so sorry, but you wouldn't let me go. I wasn't really thinking. Here," Hermione said and pulled her wand out of her purse and pointed at him and rid the burning residue from his face and then Charmed a small fountain of visual cleaning fluid to pour from her wand and soothed the burning from his retinas. She hoped she hadn't blinded him for life._

_The skin surround his eyes was still enflamed and pink, but the sclera was perfectly white and unblemished. She watched his eyelids flutter vastly, and he sat up on the bed with a troubled frown._

"_So going for the eyes is like a trademark for you, yeah?"_

"_I think I'll leave now," Hermione whispered, not wanting to start another argument that could very well cause more damage._

"_Wait, what was that you did?"_

_Hermione, who had her hand on the doorknob, turned around and sighed, "It's pepper spray."_

"_What's pepper spray? Is it water with ground black pepper or something?"_

"_Or something." Hermione nervously tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "It's a popular defense weapon in the Muggle World. Some women carry it on their person in case they are attacked by someone. Some men carry it, too, I guess."_

"_So they have it in their wristwatches?"_

"_Not all the time. They have it in a little can with a little muzzle to which you press down on, and it shoots pepper spray out. But sometimes when someone is attacked, the can is in their pocket or their purse and cannot be reached, thus, why I have it in my wristwatch. Well…not anymore. I'll have to refill it once I get back to Hogwarts."_

"_Refill it? Bloody hell, you're going to use it again?"_

"_I don't know. I think I was a bit premature and a little trigger happy with you, but next time, who knows? I didn't…" Hermione looked down at her flats. "I didn't have it when I was attacked in Hogsmeade and my wand was out of reach, furthermore; I had to make do with what I had and made someone go away forever. I don't want to kill again. Pepper spray doesn't kill."_

"_Could've fooled me. I thought I was dying."_

"_You weren't."_

"_I'm pretty sure I was."_

"_Nope. If anything, you may have been blinded for a while, which could easily be remedied with a spell."_

"_The skin around my eyes is burning."_

"_That's normal. The sensation should go away within a couple of days, but if you have any special burning creams in your first aid kit, you can apply that and be fine within seconds."_

"_I do, as a matter of fact, have some. If you would be so kind as to apply it."_

"_I can't." Hermione lifted her injured hand. "I'm hurt."_

"_If you let me fix you, will you fix me?" Adrian asked with a slight smile._

_Hermione thought about it, painstakingly running through the pros and cons of staying longer than necessary. After a few seconds, she responded. "I guess…if you keep your offensive comments to yourself."_

_He pouted playfully. "You Gryffindors take the fun out of everything."_

"_You Slytherins are horrid and wouldn't know proper fun if it greeted you with a handshake."_

"_If it's as boring as a handshake, it most certainly isn't fun."_

_They had bickered for hours, even when Adrian had took her aside and aided to her injured hand and when she rubbed cream around his eyes. Their main argument had flown off on a tangent and from there to another. It was well after midnight when Adrian loudly claimed that simple chocolate ice cream was better than cookie dough, and Hermione had tried to voice her reasoning he was wrong but fell short by a pair of lips._

"I want to see you again," Adrian repeated, pulling Hermione from the memories of that night.

"I don't think that would be wise," Hermione carefully replied.

"Why not? You like me don't you? I mean…we kissed….a lot."

"It's not that I don't like you. It's that I-"

"You like someone else," the envelope interjected. "Who is he?"

_They_, Hermione mused.

"Adrian, it was nice getting to know you, but we are not compatible. I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Wait, please. Just a-"

Hermione silenced the letter with a wave of her wand and then stuffed it into her satchel and headed out of the library. It was Sunday, so there were no classes, but Hermione had wanted a peaceful place to study. Michael kept bothering her in the Head Dormitories with cupcakes as thanks for tutoring Draco and Theodore for the few days that she did. Speaking of those three devils— between their penchants for gift-giving of sweets; her jeans were filling a bit snug.

The Enchanted Staircase came into view, and Hermione was about to climb up on the first step when she was encircled around the waist by an arm and pulled towards a darkened corner. Her body jolted in surprise and then relaxed when feeling the familiar body behind her.

"I was beginning to think you weren't interested anymore. You haven't tried anything at all this week," Hermione said with her heart thrumming loudly with excitement and relief. She whirled around to face her abductor and smiled up at Draco, placing a hand on his chest.


	41. Chapter 41

_The Enchanted Staircase came into view, and Hermione was about to climb up on the first step when she was encircled around the waist by an arm and pulled towards a darkened corner. Her body jolted in surprise and then relaxed when feeling the familiar body behind her._

_"I was beginning to think you weren't interested anymore. You haven't tried anything at all this week," Hermione said with her heart thrumming loudly with excitement and relief. She whirled around to face her abductor and smiled up at Draco, placing a hand on his chest._

"Miss me, did you?" he asked huskily and put his own hand over hers and wrapped his other arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. He kissed her forehead, breathing in her citrusy fragrance. Merlin, he near went bonkers this week without her. "You acted like you wanted space. Plus, I wanted to talk to you. Actually _talk_ to you. Not shoving your delectable mouth with sweets to keep things from being awkward."

"But we do awkward so well," Hermione piped up and rose up on her toes and pecked him teasingly on the lips, taking him by surprise.

"There other things we do better," he said as if he were in a trance. "You're in a willful mood."

Hermione shrugged shyly and nibbled on her bottom lip. "I've just been…doing some thinking is all."

"Merlin, no. Unless the thinking benefits me, I fear Hogwarts may implode. You think too much, Granger," Draco sarcastically said and inwardly cursed when Hermione's playful, romantic demeanor shifted. Her smile diminished and she jutted out her chin. Bloody hell, the woman could shift emotions like a frog skipping lily pads.

"It _could have_ benefited you, Malfoy. I was going to say that I _thought_ I made a decision concerning you and-"

"Oh, it's me, Granger," Draco said darkly and placed a hand on her bum and squeezed.

"Pervert, let me go," she hissed.

"Now, now. I wasn't finished. Where was I? Oh, yes. It's me, Granger. The kiss you just gave me now sealed it. You won't be off tutoring Nott, pretending to be a prissy little do-gooder. You're mine now, princess." He went to kiss her, but Hermione closed her lips and tilted her head back.

"Wait," she pleaded.

"It's done," Draco growled while giving her bum a squeeze again.

Hermione widened her eyes and pinned a severe look on her face and breathed in deeply. "What does this mean?"

"Pardon? I think it's obvious. It means your mine."

"But I want to know what that entails. If I'm yours, what will you offer me?" Hermione inquired.

Draco's hand lifted from her bum and rested at the small of her back, a perplexed expression on his face. "I didn't know I had to offer…am I not enough? I didn't peg you as the type of girl-"

"I didn't mean what kind of expensive presents will you buy me when I'm your airheaded arm-ornament, you cad! I mean…" Hermione lowered her voice and looked away, "are you going to hide me? Ginny thinks you will, and I don't want to be. I know you may feel-"

"You don't know how I feel," Draco interjected and Hermione nodded with an enlightened expression.

"You're right; I don't. How do you feel?"

"Well," Draco started and fingered a stray piece of curl sticking out of her ponytail, "I feel your loud-mouthed ginger friend should mind her own bloody business. She's the last person in the entire school who shouldn't be giving relationship advice. As for other feelings of mine, I want to kiss you again. I want to touch you again."

Hermione placed a hand upon his oncoming face and pressed, muffling his curse. "If you think you're getting a kiss after that, then you have indeed lost your mind, Draco Malfoy. Ginny is my friend, and if you want to be mine, then you better keep your gob shut! I don't insult your friends."

"No, just kiss them," Draco said and then bit his tongue. Effing shite! It just had to be her he loved, didn't it! He just had fall in love with the most infuriating piece of arse in Hogwarts! It was only her that got him this flustered and bleedin' make him say stupid things that would prevent him getting all kinds off naughty sessions with her.

"You…" Hermione's chest rose up and her mouthed gaped in horrified disgust, and Draco briefly wondered if he was going to escape from the corner alive. "Utter bastard! I practically threw myself at you right here, and you are being an arse! I chose you, you inbred dink, and all I ask is that you don't hide me!"

"Oh, Kitten-" Draco tried, panic creeping up on him. Gods, he was going to lose her, wasn't he? Here she was all but offering her heart, and he was being…well…himself. Damn that Sirius Black! That dodgy buffoon had been right?! He needed to change!

"Don't call me that!"

"Alright, alright. I won't call you that. I'll call you Hermione-"

"Now you're just trying too hard! Hush, you! I think I liked it better when you couldn't speak."

"Salazar's dick, Granger!" Draco moaned in agony, bringing his hand to his face and covering his eyes. "I'm sorry, okay. I really am. Don't…don't leave me. I…you know how I feel about you."

She took a step back from him and folded her arms. "Do I? I thought I didn't know your feelings."

"What do you want from me? I can see this is _it_ right here. What do I have to do to make you not run away because I'm faffing imbecile?"

Without hesitation, Hermione replied, "I want you to tell your parents about me. I don't want to be a dirty secret you hide away at school. It's all or nothing."

Draco could feel Hermione's steely gaze form into an invisible hand and grab his bullocks, establishing who was the dominate party in the relationship.

"Okay," he whispered with wince and nodded. "I can do that."

"When?" she asked.

"Soon."

Hermione tilted her head to the side in inquiry and gave him a quizzical stare. Dropping her arms, she took a step forward and placed both hands on his chest and began rubbing circles, gifting him a small smile.

"Alright. Fair enough, but…" she lingered and gave him a sly look and traced a finger from his left pectoral to his chin and tapped him there. "When you do, I'll give you something in return."

"You don't need to get me anything, Granger. It's you I like buying presents for," the boy informed with a strained smile, feeling ill at the thought of telling his father about his new companion.

Hermione frowned at Draco, feeling a little silly about her innuendo. She tried to say it sexy and coy-like. Was she too coy and not enough sexy?

"Malfoy, I'm not talking about a present I'm going to buy you," she said underneath her breath, a blush darkening her cheeks. Was he going to make her spell it out or something equally humiliating? "I'm talking about something I will give you in return for committing yourself to me by telling your parents about us. It will be a way of showing _my_ commitment to us."

Draco was able to snap out of his inner turmoil to get the gist of what she was saying. He blinked at her and then grabbed her waist. "You'll shag me?"

Hermione opened her mouth and let a semi-amused, semi-shocked scoff jump out. Raising both eyebrows to her hairline, she hesitantly nodded. "I wouldn't say it in that form, but ultimately yes. I feel that, though our technical relationship is rather new, we have been in each other's company a fair amount, enough for me to feel comfortable in promising you commitment. However, like I said, I want commitment out of you first. This way _I know_ I chose wisely."

"I won't botch it, I swear," promised Draco and Hermione wanted to believe him. Really she did. She loved him, she guessed. Missed him dearly when he was no longer slithering up to her with seduction in mind, but she could not lie to herself. She missed Theodore, as well. He certainly would have been the much simpler choice. No, that's a lie, too. Not having feelings for any boy during her last year would have been more ideal. For the love of Godric, she had N.E.W.T.s! How was she supposed to focus on Malfoy's cute face _and_ her studies?

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

Hermione gave him a hopeful stare. "Tell me that I'm not making a mistake. Tell me I won't regret this. Tell me you won't hurt me."

"I promised I wouldn't," Draco reminded and then took her hand in his. "Can I kiss you now?"

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, wondering if she had been too carefree in letting fate hand her Draco Malfoy. Again, she had to compare him to Theodore. Theodore was without familial obligations…thanks to her. Having a relationship with him would have been like sailing on calm waters on a warm day. This new relationship she had just started with Malfoy was already perilous, and they hadn't even kissed yet as boyfriend and girlfriend. She was actually debating whether to even kiss him or not! He certainly didn't deserve one after acting like a prat despite having promised to tell his parents.

Hermione unslung her satchel from her shoulder and extended it to Draco. "Carry this for me while you walk me back to the Head Dormitories and then I shall give you a reward."

* * *

"Luna, please," Blaise begged, trying to catch up to the girl. Bloody hell, for a girl who walked like she was on a moving cloud, she sure was fast! "Give me another chance."

"Why? You don't like me," she said in a light, matter-of-fact tone. "You like Ginny, but that's okay. She's a really good person."

"No I don't! I really don't. And she's not. She's really not!"

"You do, and yes she is."

"No, I don't. I like you. I only…Bloody hell, Luna; will you stop walking and turn around, so I can talk to you? What Ginny and I are doing is not real. I only wanted to make you jealous, and she had her reasons." Blaise nearly collided with the girl's back when she stopped abruptly. Slowly, she turned around and finally faced him, a frown on her lips.

"You were trying to make me jealous when all you did was hurt me," she quietly stated.

"I never meant to. I don't like Ginny, and she doesn't like me. I like you. I want you. I think I lo-"

Luna put a hand to his lips and shook her head, the hardness of her blue eyes dissolving into pity. "You don't. Maybe you did for a little while, but you don't now. You like Ginny."

"No, I don't!" Blaise growled in frustration, and she smiled sadly up at him, her hand reaching out to take lay upon his arm.

"I'm not mad. Maybe I'm still a little hurt, but I know you genuinely like her and have for a long time. But she was with Harry, and I thought that maybe you could like me instead. I have only distracted you, though, and I apologize. I'll leave you alone. Someone has been placing mistletoe around the school, and they've attracted Nargles. I need to rid the school of them before something bad happens."

"No, I don't want you to leave me alone and go search for who knows what."

Luna shook her head and sighed in disappointment. "You still haven't read Chapter 24 have you?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"The book I gave you a few weeks ago. You haven't read Chapter 24. You need to. It's important," she told him and turned around, and Blaise reached out to grip her arm, but she slipped away and skipped off down the vacant corridor.

With her blonde hair bouncing away from him, he contemplated smashing his hand against a wall again but forewent the idea. He would just have to try harder next time he saw Luna and make her believe that Ginevra Weasley was a mess and no one wanted her, especially him.

No, he did not want her at all.

Nope.

Uh uh.

He only shagged her because she demanded it, and it would have been rude to refuse. He was a gentleman, after all. But she was an infuriating piece of work. Every time the bint opened her mouth, Blaise wanted to crawl out of skin. He was elated by not having to show up for Monday afternoon and Saturday morning tutoring sessions with her anymore. Really. He didn't miss them or her in the least. And he certainly was _not_ offended the lass had avoided him since their awful tryst in the library two weeks prior.

Blaise walked down the hallway in the opposite direction of Luna and turned the corner, nearly running into…Ruddy hell in the bloodiest form! It was the Devil.

With an ice cream cone in her hand.

"Weasley." Blaise nodded his head in an awkward greet. "Hello."

She said nothing but looked up at him with big eyes and then turned around in a snap and practically sprinted from whence she came. Blaise wondered if he had a sign on his person reading, 'Run away from me if we've shagged.'

"Weasley, wait!" he called after her while picking up his feet in a run. "We need to talk."

"No!" she screamed and persisted to run at an impressive pace.

Building speed with his longer legs, he was able to catch up to her and run beside her. "You can't run away from me forever."

"Yes, I can!"

"You're going to drop your ice cream."

Shockingly, this made her stop, and she stared at her chocolate ice cream cone with petulant sullenness, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Don't cry. See," he pointed to the cone, "it's still intact. No harm done."

"I hate you," she whimpered and rammed the ice cream into his face. He stumbled back at the cold, sticky shock of having frozen dessert shoved up his nose. He snarled in the girl's direction and was going to bring a hand to wipe off his face, but a pair of determined hands shoved at his chest causing him to lose balance and crumple to the floor.

"What is wrong with you?" he spat at her and made a move to get up which was when Ginny lowered herself, resting her knees on the sides of his torso and leaned over. Her tongue poked out of her mouth and she dragged the wet muscle across his chin, mouth, and the bridge of his nose as her hands flew to the fly of his trousers.


	42. Chapter 42

"Are you sure?"

SNORT!

"What's so funny?"

"You always ask that, and I don't know why?"

"Because…because I really want to know if you…really want this."

Daphne's head fell back on the ground, her cloak protecting her head from the chilly, damp ground beneath her. She groaned in annoyance and shot Harry an irritated stare. "I told you, Potter. It's not about-"

"What we want. It's about what feels right," Harry finished and ran a hand through his mussed hair. "I remember."

"Then why do you keep asking?"

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do." Harry shrugged. "I don't want you to think you have to do anything you don't want to."

"Potter, listen to me. I _never_ do anything I don't want to. Understand?"

Harry gradually nodded, and Daphne reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to resume where they left off.

They were a hair's width into the Forbidden Forest underneath a willow tree. It was their secret place away from the prying eyes of the castle's students, staff, and portraits. A little while later, the couple laid disheveled and side-by-side on their cloaks, their hands clasped and both breathing ragged. When Harry's breathing became normal and the flush faded out of his cheeks, he made an 'ahem' sound and stated, "So the Halloween Ball is coming up."

"Is it?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the amusement in Daphne's tone. "Yeah."

"And?"

"Well…I was thinking we could go together. If you want."

"It _feels_ right to accept the offer," she said lightly.

"Of course."

"What are you going as?"

"I don't know," Harry half-lied. With Ginny, they had planned to go as a complimentary couple. She was going to dress up as a Siren of the Sea, and he was going to dress up as a pirate of sort. "I'll have to think about it. What are you going as?"

"A nymph."

"Right."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You better not dress up as some Greek mythological being, okay? That would be embarrassing, and we both would lose respect. Matching couples are disgusting."

"But I really wanted to show up as Zeus!" Harry boomed the word 'Zeus' and Daphne giggled and shook her head in a big no.

"I'd never forgive you!"

"Not even if I did this?" His hands found the sides of her tummy and wiggled his fingers into the soft flesh, watching in delight as she squirmed and shrieked for him to stop.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Stop!"

"I don't want to!"

"Potter!"

"Fine, fine. It doesn't _feel_ right to stop."

* * *

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,_

_We have never met, but I attend Hogwarts with your daughter. I am writing this letter to inform you both that I am very much in love with Hermione and wish to spend my life with her. I am going to assume she has not spoken of me to you, for we are a fairly recent couple. However, I thought it polite and of elite mannerism, to write you and divulge my intentions with you._

_ I will be frank. I hope to marry your daughter in the near future, preferably after Graduation. I intend to give her an engagement ring at Christmas, and I ask for your blessing. I'm a good man, and I would make a good husband to your little girl. I am very much fond of her and look forward to meeting the man and woman who begat such a lovely being into the world._

_ With all the respect in my heart,_

_ Hermione's Boyfriend._

Theo was not going to putting his name as of yet. He would deal with it when the time came.

Rereading what spouted from his quill, he smirked in satisfaction. This was the seventh letter he had written, the six previous being practice ones, and deemed this one fit enough to send. Folding it meticulously into thirds, he slipped it into an envelope and sealed it with the sealant design of the Slytherin House crest. He ventured out of the dungeon area and made way to the main level to exit the castle. The outside air was nippy, the autumn air settling in full swing, and Theo was grateful to have brought his cloak. He climbed the outside steps and into the Owlery, noting a few other students in the facility attaching parcels of all sizes to their owls. He walked over to Draco's, never having bothered to purchase an owl of his own, and tied the letter to the fowl's leg and then treated him with a rodent flavored cube and a stroke on the head.

"Now you make sure the Grangers get this, Dipper," he told the bird who then spread his large, black wings and flapped them exaggeratedly and hooted before flying out of the Owlery Tower.

"Your owl's very lovely," a voice came from behind. Theo turned around and saw Lovegood standing by a very small owlet with fluffy white and grey fur. The small creature rested daintily on a rotted perch, and Lovegood smiled warmly at him while stroking the baby fowl's coat.

"Uh…Thanks." Theo shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "It's not mine, though. It's Draco's."

"It's very nice of him letting you use his owl. He must be a good friend."

"He is." Theo nodded because, despite all the craziness with Granger and the bickering with the bloke, he was still his mate.

"And you are, too. You take care of the owl. What is its name?"

"Dipper," answered Theo.

"Mine's Gretchel," Luna said. "My father's owl had babies a couple of months ago, and he gave me one to take to school. She was very small when she was born and almost died, but I nursed her back to health. She's not quite strong enough to deliver, but I'm hoping by Christmas she will be. I tend to her daily, so she eats enough. She tires quickly while hunting and does not eat as much as she should, so I have to bring her food."

"If you continue to provide food, she will lose her instinct to hunt and kill for herself," Theo arrogantly pointed out.

"If I discontinue, she will not grow. She will not be strong, and she will die. Instinct, she has and if she loses it, it will come again. She is a predator, and it is in her nature to hunt for nourishment. Take a snake for example. It is a predator, and its instinct is to kill for nourishment and protection. Many people take snakes from their natural habitat and try to domesticate them or raise them from a neonate. Those snakes never lose the urge to bite and will do so if provoked."

Lovegood had a way of being unceasingly profound, and Theo was always impressed with someone who could say words and mean them, especially a girl. But the evening was vast approaching, and he had yet to speak with Granger now that he had his voice back.

"Well, you are enlightening, Miss Lovegood. I shall mull over what you have said. Have a good afternoon."

"You, too, and may I ask a favor?"

"I suppose, depending on what it is you ask."

"Fair enough. Would you and Mr. Malfoy be so kind as to stop putting up mistletoe around the school? The Nargles are going in revolt due to being set up so early in the year. They are an unappreciative breed and do not want to be bothered until necessary. They know Halloween has yet to come."

With a face devoid of expression, Theo asked, "What the bloody hell are Nargles?"

Lovegood's eyes brightened and a dreamy smile pinched at her cheeks while her hands slipped into her satchel and pulled out a book at least 150 pages thick and handed it to him.

"Philius Botchkin, a very famous writer, wrote this book about them. My father helped him publish it nearly fifteen years ago. The book will answer all your questions. I hope you like it."

"Uh…" Theo watched as Lovegood turned on her heel and skipped down the stone steps outside, wondering who Philius Botchkin was. "Thanks."

* * *

"So, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Christmas."

Pansy went rigid and widened her eyes and Ron's words.

"What's wrong," he said, sensing her distress.

The girl blinked and calmed herself, sitting up from her horizontal position and buttoning up her shirt. "Nothing. What about Christmas?" She caught Ron's frown at her redressing and smiled at him reassuringly.

"I was thinking about spending some time together over the break, you know. Three weeks is a long time without seeing each other," Ron said.

Pansy stood up from the broom closet floor and straightened her skirt, scanning the dark, musty room for her knickers. "Umm…"

"I get it if it's too soon." Ron nodded, a jaded expression on his face. "This whole thing would become a bit of a shock to my parents. I just thought…"

Spotting her knickers in the corner, she went over to them and faced away from him to slip them on, not bearing to look at him. Because, bloody damned effing hell, everything was getting out of hand! She was in too deep and was scared out of her mind. This was all supposed to end by Christmas break. Once Draco or Theo won Granger, Ron would be history. It was never supposed to be serious, only fun.

A tiny part of Pansy wanted to discard the whole 'Win Granger' debacle and let things happen naturally with Ron, but she couldn't. Really. Her father would implode if he got word she was fraternizing with a Blood Traitor. Her mother knew and was doing all she could to prevent Daddy from finding out, but it was only a matter of time before he did and would come trudging to Hogwarts and kill Ron Weasley.

Pansy's bottom lip trembled and she whipped around to see the boy who was giving her all kinds of trouble. He was sliding his legs into a pair of trousers.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she screeched and marched up to him and stabbed her green polished finger into his chest.

"Uh…getting dressed. You kind of gave me the impression we were done for today and-"

"Well, we are not!" Pansy crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the stone floor. "I will give you three seconds and three seconds only, Weasley, to take those trousers off. If you exceed that time limit, I will light them afire while their still on your skin. Is that clear, boy?!"

"Yes, Mistress," Ron rushed out and pointed his wand at his pants.

"You will _not_ use magic to Vanish them. _One!"_

The boy let out a panicked gasp and fumbled with the button of his pants.

"Two!"

The pants shimmied down his legs.

"Three!"

"Eep!" Ron gave her a horrified look, his eyes round and nervous, his trousers trapped at his ankles.

"Did I or did I not give you plenty of time to strip yourself of those trousers, Weasley?"

"You did, Mistress." He nodded violently.

"Then why do you still have them on?"

"I-I…"

Pansy pointed her wand at the material wrapped around his ankles and tore the pants off of him. "I will not burn you, but that does not mean you have lucked out of being punished. On your knees!"

It was like someone hit the back of Ron's legs with a club, and Pansy smirked down at him wickedly, her mischievous face hiding her real feelings. Inwardly, she was cursing her stupidity for getting caught up in Draco and Theo's mess. How could she have not thought about the consequences of getting involved with a Blood Traitor? Her father would murder Ron once he found out.

She backhanded that notion in a jiffy as she stared down at Ron's expectant face, the boy waiting for instruction, and she promised herself she would sever things with him come Christmas. He would be sad, but he would grow up and get over it. Get over her. Go off and eventually meet girls and eventually date and then get married and have babies and…

No!

No! No! No! Daddy was just going to have to deal with it, and if he so much as looked at Ron wrong, she would throw the biggest tantrum the Wizardry World had ever seen! Christmas be damned! Draco be damned! Theo be damned. The whole competition can take a one way trip to the fiery depths of Crabbe's armpits because she was _not_ giving Weasley up.

"What's wrong, My Sweet? You seem upset all of a sudden," Ron cooed up at her, and Pansy lunged at him, knocking them both to the floor as she peppered kisses all over his face. Her skin sang in tingles as she felt his arms wrap around her waist and hold her to him. She widened her legs and straddled him, abruptly tearing her face away from his and sat up, an idea pricking at her brain.

Oh, yes! She knew what she had to do to keep Ronald Weasley.

"Sweetheart?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Like what?" Pansy innocently asked.

"Like you want to eat me."

A feral grin split her face and her hands flew to his shoulders and gripped tightly. "Because I'm starving for some freckled flesh. Feed me, Weasley!"

SLAP!

Ron's face whipped to the side for a mere second before turning back to her with a silly grin. "I love it when you do that."

SLAP!

"Ha,ha,ha! Do it again!"

SLAP!

"Again!"

SLAP!

"Aga-"

"Holy blithering hell," whispered a breathless voice from the door. Pansy and Ron stopped what they were doing and slid their gazes on the small, horrified boy quivering at the broom closet door.

"Little Pucey, what do you think you're doing?!"

Little Pucey's hand flew to his eyes and whimpered out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Miss Superior Parkinson. If I had of known…but I didn't, and I was requested by my Blood Superior to-"

Pansy held up her hand and climbed off of Ron and walked over to the boy who still had his hand over his eyes. "Adrian requested you to what?"

"I cannot say with the Blood Traitor present, Miss Superior Parkinson. My Blood Superior would be furious if any information specified for your ears reached another. Please, Your Highness, I'm already in boiling venom with my brother as it is. I reckon I'm going to get the dungeon when I return home for Christmas."

Pansy frowned at him with narrowed eyes and planted her hands on her hips. "Adrian so much as points his wand at you, I will gut him."

"What's going on?" she heard Ron ask and she turned her head and smiled at him.

"Nothing. I have to talk to Taylor for a bit. Get dressed and I will see you at dinner, okay?"

Ron nodded sullenly and picked up his torn pants, mending them with his wand. Pansy put her vision back on Little Pucey's hands covering his eyes. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around and guided him out of the broom closet.

"What does your broom-wreck of a brother want with me?" huffed Pansy as she flipped her hair. "I'm pretty sure I closed the Adrian Pucey chapter with a respectable slam. I'm over him, and I'm not coming back."

"As much as I would have _loved_," Little Pucey gagged out, "to have had you as a sister-in-law and be an uncle to the undoubtedly precious and abominable neonates you both would have begat to this fortunate world, I am pleased to say that he would not take you back."

"Wouldn't he?" Pansy cocked an eyebrow in curiosity and began walking down the corridor, making a gesture to the boy for him to follow. "And does that have anything to do with what you need to tell me?"

"With honesty, Miss Superior Parkinson, I'm not entirely sure what he wants to tell you. I have an idea, but he didn't give me much to go on. He wants to speak with you personally." Little Pucey dug into his satchel and pulled out an envelope and extended it to her.

Pansy hesitantly took it. "He's not inviting me to another party, is he? I'm not going if he is. You know he only invites me to parties, so I can _entertain _his boys."

"It's not." He shook his head. "I promise. I'm going on a hunch, but I think he's going to ask you to do him a favor."

"I don't do _favors _for him, anymore."

"It's not that kind of favor, even though I'm not entirely sure what _that_ _kind_ means." The boy shrugged dourly and shoved his hands into his pockets. "No one will tell me. Will you?"

"Do you like girls, yet?"

"If you mean to maim and prank, then yes."

"You're too young to know."

"I'm eleven!"

"You're still a Firstie and not ready for the second level of the mating rituals of a Slytherins. Keep up with the maiming and pranking, the first level."

"Fine," he mumbled. "I have to go now. I can't be around when you talk to Adrian. He gets mad when I eavesdrop."

"As he should," Pansy said pointedly. "Breaking rule number one will upset him."

"Right, right. Don't get caught and all that rubbish."

"I will have you Re-Sorted if you keep up with the attitude."

"You're mum's attitude needs Re-Sorting," Little Pucey muttered under his breath and scampered off, Pansy's glare hitting him in the bum.

Pansy studied the envelope in her hand and looked around for any creepers. She was not in a secluded part of the castle, so she headed towards the library in the very back and found a secluded desk where she sat the letter upon and waved her wand over it, the letter levitating and forming a papery shape of a mouth.

"Pansy?" the envelope crinkled.


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't been doing these as often. I've just been trying to get these blasted chapters posted thrice a week. I will start off with giving my thanks to my readers, reviewers, and followers. Thank you so much! Hope the chapter is enjoyable. Tell me what you think. :)

* * *

_Pansy studied the envelope in her hand and looked around for any creepers. She was not in a secluded part of the castle, so she headed towards the library in the very back and found a secluded desk where she sat the letter upon and waved her wand over it, the letter levitating and forming a papery shape of a mouth._

"_Pansy?" the envelope crinkled._

"You wanted to speak with me," Pansy said in a bored tone and eyed her cuticles with a frown. A manicure was definitely needed. Maybe Astoria would be in the sharing mood and let Pansy have a go at her new manicure set her mum sent in her latest care package.

"Yes, I need your help and-"

"No." She really needed get her toenails done, too. And maybe her hair. A new hairstyle, too. She needed to be in tiptop shape for Ron and her plans with him.

"You haven't even heard me out!"

"No."

"Please!"

"I'll think about it." Pause. "I thought about it. No."

"I'll give you something in return."

Pansy cocked an eyebrow and jutted out her hip and tapped her foot. "That is if you have anything I want that you could offer, but you never did, Adrian."

"The Nimbus 6000 is yours," he offered and Pansy rolled her eyes and smirked.

"Tempting. If I wanted one, I would tell Daddy, and I would get three: one to break, one to learn, and one to fly."

"Morgana's original potion manuscript."

Pansy opened her mouth, about to say something snarky, but closed her lips just as quickly. Adrian's words had sunk in. She slit her eyes and titled her head back and stared at the suspended envelope incredulity.

"Mummy has Morgana's manuscript."

"But not the original," Adrian taunted.

"Nobody has the original. It burned up along with everything else when the Anglo-Saxon's conquered. And what may have been left got pulverized by the Church. The one witch, who actually was able to jot down as much as she could, passed down the second edition to her kin for years until the Plague hit in the Muggle World. Most of that witch's lineage was burned along with all of her belongings. The third edition, of which my mother has, was written by some apprentice of one of the witches burned at the stake. My mother's manuscript was a copy, one of the few who were sold to only the elite bloodlines. You can't fool me, Adrian. I know my history."

"It has the original recipe for Polyjuice Potion. It supposedly lasts for days."

"You're lying, and you still have nothing to offer me."

"Your loss then, but that's okay. I can give the manuscript to someone else. In fact, I know exactly who I want to give it to."

"Who?"

"Tut, tut, Parkinson. You refuse to help me."

"You refuse to offer anything with credibility."

"Fine. Taylor is yours. You always did like him better than me."

"I'm sure Mum and Dad would be thrilled. They always wanted a son," Pansy snapped.

There was a long, bout of silence before Adrian replied. "I have inherited an Unplottable, tri-level cottage located in the Alps. It's yours."

Pansy widened her eyes and slackened her jaw. "You've got to be joking. You're offering a house in exchange for my help?"

"I believe this is something your daddy can't buy for you. You have to inherit those properties. You can't buy them anymore."

"I have a manor. What would I do with a house?"

"Your parents have a manor along with other properties belonging to them. However, _you_ have nothing."

"I have…things!" she defended poorly, knowing he was right. She was nothing without her mum and dad. She got what she wanted by word of mouth. There was no shiny Gringotts vault with her name on it filled with galleons and jewels. The downfalls of having a vag and boobs. True, when her parents would depart from this plane of existence, she would get the lot to herself if she never married, but they were in their late thirties. They weren't going to keel over and go away for a very long time.

Ooooo! The offer was tempting. To actually own something that was truly hers was an intoxicating idea. It would be the perfect place for her and Ron to…

"What do you need help with?"

"Easy, easy." Adrian chuckled. "You'll get the house but on one condition."

"I said I would help you."

"It has to work first."

"What does?"

"What I want you to do."

Glaring at the envelope, Pansy crossed her arms and began to have an internal debate, her instincts shouting no but her head screeching yes. Yes, she wanted the cottage and bad. She may _need_ that cottage!

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Do you promise you will do it?"

Pansy gnawed on her bottom lip apprehensively, more than a little afraid of what her ex-boyfriend was requesting her to do. But the cottage…

"I want money, too," Pansy rushed out.

"Money? Really now?" Adrian's voice peaked in interest. "And whatever for."

"My own reasons. If I have a house, I'll need some money to maintain the keep. Many house-elves are now demanding pay. Can you believe it?"

A dry, ironic chuckle came from him. "I know. It's different. Things are changing out there, but yes, I'll arrange some galleons for you."

"Okay, I want-"

"Name your price when my favor is fulfilled," Adrian interjected.

"Fair enough."

"So you will help me, and you promise on Morgana's soul, you will do whatever you can to complete this assignment."

"Yes," Pansy whispered.

"Excellent. This is what I want you to do."

* * *

"This isn't negotiable, Draco," Hermione said to him with her grip on the sling of her satchel, the bag in the boy's clenched hands. They stood in front of the Head Dormitory portrait, ignoring the occupant's intrigued expression. "Give me my bag and kiss me farewell. We'll see each other at dinner. I'll be sure to sit in a place at the Gryffindor table where you can see my face."

"Just let me come in, Granger. There will be no harm done," Draco assured with a mischievous grin and he winked.

"It would be inappropriate," she informed in a hushed voice.

"Not anymore inappropriate than what we do in broom closets and empty classrooms, darling. It will be simply dandy for both of us if you let me come inside. I'm sure you've made great friends with the kitchen elves. One of them would love to send you up some dinner. We can dine in your room and _talk_."

Hermione scoffed and ignored the indirect jibe at the elves. "We don't talk, Malfoy. We argue. We yell. We curse each other's existence."

"We snog," Draco added. "We can do that instead of all that dull rubbish you mentioned. It will be difficult for you to call me a slimy prat when I'm coaxing your pretty mouth into submission."

A blush tinted her cheeks and she clenched her jaw in determination. She was not going to yield so easily to him anymore. This new relationship was going to start simple that consisted of hand-holding, walking around the castle, studying together—actual studying— and sweet unpromising kisses. Though Draco was more tolerable, by a smidgen, than he had been the years previously, she had not forgotten what it felt like to be on the receiving end of his bullying. Every hug, kiss, and secret smile was going to have to be earned. This past month, she gave them out too easily, and not just to him. Those days were done. If Draco wanted this relationship to be serious, then extra care would have to be taken which meant no untimely snogging and touching in empty rooms of the school.

Hermione yanked at her sling. "Give me my bag, Malfoy. Please."

Draco clenched the bag and yanked it his way, thus, causing Hermione to stumble over her feet. He caught her with a wicked smirk and stooped down to kiss her.

"No, Ma-mmmph!"

Oooooooo! Tingles, tingles, tingles!

Hermione forbade her brain in turning to mush and her body to slacken against his. Nevertheless, she rode the pleasant wave of kissing Draco. She could not deny that the best use for his mouth was snogging. It was a shame she wasn't going to participate in the action very often with him. He was very much like a cute, eager puppy and needed to be taught the rules of Hermione Granger's Household. The main rule for now was that Draco did not get to enter Hermione Granger's Household until he told his parents and that included short, passionate kisses. _Not_ long ones that could cause her to change her mind and allow his hands to wander and cup her bum and-

"Hands, Malfoy," Hermione breathlessly said after detaching her mouth from his. She shook her head no and put her hand over his that had wandered, pulling it away. He pouted at her and rested his forehead against hers.

"You let me touch your arse not even twenty minutes ago," he reminded.

"I just think we should take things slow."

"Why," he whined. "I've already seen you near starkers."

Hermione scowled at his crass words and swat his shoulder. "We are in a real relationship now, and this is how real relationships go. The couple starts out slow, and you haven't told your parents yet."

"If I send them a letter right now telling them of my swotty little girlfriend named Granger, will you let me have you tonight?"

She gawked at him. "You would risk _that_ kind of discipline for sex?!"

"Sex with you."

The Head Dormitory portrait made an 'hmmm' sound, but both students ignored it.

"I don't know whether to feel flattered or frightened. My Gods, Malfoy, it's just sex," Hermione told him with a wrinkled forehead. As much as it would boost her happiness and ego having Draco tell his parents now, she was not quite ready to bed their son.

"Don't be shirking the concept of intercourse and all its pleasures like it's nothing. Unless you were being an incredible actress, you seemed to have enjoyed it when I gave you taste of it."

The portrait made the same 'hmmm' sound again, and Hermione covered her face in humiliation. Inhaling to calm her embarrassment, she was finally able to reply, "I did, but I'm not ready to do it again. I know what I promised, and I will go through with that promise whenever you decide to inform you parents of me. If it's today, so be it."

"Well, now I can't do that." Draco stepped away from her and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He hadn't really been planning on tell his parents today…or even this month. Curiosity got the better of him and wanted to know what Hermione would say if he were to immediately tell his father and mummy. He was not at all shocked to see his prissy, blushing princess feeling nervous of what she had promised.

"You won't tell them right now?" she asked.

"Probably not, especially if you're going to be difficult about it. I want you completely willing, sweetheart. It'll be more enjoyable for the both of us."

"Okay," Hermione said with relief and smiled at him delicately. "Good. Now if I could get my bag back-"

"You're still not going to let me come in?"

"No, Malfoy," Hermione exasperated and rolled her eyes. "I will see you at dinner."

* * *

Ronald Weasley was having a pretty spectacular year. Aside from losing Harry as a mate, who knew Seventh Year was going to be the pudding for him? Yeah, the last year of Hogwarts for students were supposedly special, but he reckoned it really wasn't going to be with N.E.W.T.s and studying and no girlfriend to ease the tension with a kiss or comforting rub on the shoulders.

And then came Pansy. And, Merlin, who knew, right?

Where did she come from? Why was it happening? It was fishy, yeah, but he wasn't the type to go digging for the whys of gift-giving, and he especially wasn't going to start now. He was in love with Pansy Parkinson and nothing was going to change that. It was crazy, and he knew they were both young, but she was _it_ for him. No one else was going to do it for him. She had ruined him for all chits, and he was brilliantly chuffed about it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

No, toss that into the tosh pot. He's going to spend the rest of his life with her, and nothing was going to distract him from officially obtaining his girl.

Determinedly, Ron signed his name at the bottom of the parchment and folded it into thirds. He sealed it with the Gryffindor sealant and gingerly set it inside the drawer bedside his desk. He would mail it first thing in the morning to his parents, alerting them of their son's relationship and infatuation with Miss Pansy Parkinson. He wasn't much for telling his family shite, but this was important. Pansy could very well be a part of the family, and they needed to be bleedin' ready because the slithering vixen was going to be wearing a promise ring come Christmas.

With the desk drawer still open, he pulled out the small cubed box holding Pansy's Christmas present. A little over a week ago, he had Owl-ed Fred and George and asked for a bit of money. They had berated him, both wanting to know why but they gave him the galleons, and he was able to buy the promise ring in Hogsmeade.

Loud thumps of someone bounding up the stairs tore Ron out of his ponderings, and he put the ring box back into the drawer in time as Little Jordan burst through the door, his chest rattling up and down, a look of determination of his face.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" asked Ron with concern.

The first year shook his head. "No, it's horrible. It's obscene! It's traitorous! I'm so sorry!"

"What for?"

"I can't say! It's too horrible! You have to get to the Headmaster's office prompt."

"Why?"

"I can't say." Little Jordan shook his violently, his skin paling by the second.

"What can you say?" Ron asked carefully. "I don't fancy a trip to the Headmaster's office unless I know something."

The boy swallowed and gave him a helpless look. "It's about Ginny. She-"

* * *

"Ron! Wait!" squealed Little Jordan while running after the older student in the corridors.

"I can't. Ginny's in trouble," Ron called back, turning a corner sharply.

"I didn't say she was in trouble!"

"But you made me think…" Ron slowed his pace and cast a confused look at the younger wizard.

"It's just…I can't say."

"Bloody hell!" Ron rolled his eyes and sprinted away from Little Jordan.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he called out to him.

Ron came to the stone gargoyle and saw McGonagall beside it waiting for him.

"Is she okay? My sister? Is she alright?" he rushed out.

"Mr. Weasley, Ginevra is…_fine_," McGonagall clipped stiffly. "Follow me." She whispered the password lead him to the Headmaster's office. Upon entering the office, Ron saw Dumbledore, Snape, Zabini, and his sister.

Snape took one look at him and then turned back to Dumbledore. "If I'm no longer needed, then I-"

"No one cares. What's wrong with my sister?" Ron asked and shot a worried look at his sister. She was looking down at her shoes with her hair covering the majority of her face. His worry worsened. "Gin, you okay?"

"Mr. Weasley! Ten points from Gryffindor," barked McGonagall as Snape sneered at him and stalked away from them with Zabini in tow, the git smirking at him as he swaggered away, like the slithering git knew something.

"Don't bleedin' care, I just-"

"Another ten. Mr. Weasley, your language is-"

"My sister!"

"Is in _unfathomable_ trouble!" she balked, holding a hand above her chest.

"What happened to her? Is she okay? Is she hurt?" He looked at his sister again. She didn't appear injured. If she had been, wouldn't they be having this meeting in the Hospital Wing? "Ginny, are you alright?"

"Your parents have put you in charge of her whilst you are here. Furthermore, you will decide her punishment. Due to the Headmaster's-"

"Punishment? What did she do? Set off dung bombs in Potions again? Don't need me to spank her for that. Blimey, I'm just upset she didn't let me help her."

"Mr. Weasley!"

"What?"

"This isn't some frivolous prank she did. She is in very big trouble, young man. Luckily, the Headmaster has decided to forgive this _extreme_ misdeed and is willing to comprise with Miss Weasley. She does not want your parents to know and, frankly, I'm not sure I want this made known either. Since your sister is your responsibility when at Hogwarts, the Headmaster and I both agreed for you to come up with some of the punishment."

Ron blinked, his jaw slackening and the wonder of what his baby sister could have done that was so bad, not even McGonagall was following protocol.

"What did she do, Professor?" Ron swallowed nervously and glanced at his sister who avoided eye contact with everyone in the room.

"Mr. Weasley, always a pleasure, my boy," Dumbledore piped up from behind his desk, his fingertips pressing together in a spindly pyramid.

Ginny then whispered to her brother, shame and despair in her tone, "Ron, I...I'm really sorry."

"About?" he asked carefully

Dumbledore picked up a bowl of yellowish round things and stretched out his arm towards him in offering. "Lemon drop?"

"Yeah," Ron agreed and walked over to the desk and snagged one with an appreciative grin and popped it into his mouth.

The elderly wizard beamed at him and sighed contently. "It's good to see you out an about, Mr. Weasley. I feel I haven't seen you much at all around the school. Not even at mealtime, which I always thought were your favorite times of the day. Keeping busy?" Ron flushed and nodded silently, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he continued to roll the lemony candy around in his mouth. "That's good. Miss Weasley," he said to Ginny and extended the candy bowl. "Lemon drop?"

"No!" McGonagall sprinted over with her finger pointed at Dumbledore. "Bad girls don't get candy!"

Ginny burst into tears and lunged at her brother, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his shoulder. Ron frowned down at her and then glared at McGonagall. "Don't talk to her like that!" He plucked a lemon drop from Dumbledore's bowl and brought it close to Ginny's cheek. She took it from his hand and popped it into her mouth.

"I'm sorry. Please don't tell Mum or Dad," she begged.

"About?" he asked again, though he was afraid of the answer.

"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore began, "Miss Weasley and a member of the opposite gender were reported by a portrait occupant. According to the portrait occupant, they were participating in…How shall I say this? They engaged in an activity that is forbidden on school property."

Ron looked down at Ginny and sighed. "Were you and Seamus handing out Puking Pastels to the First Year Slytherins again?"

McGonagall groaned and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with mirth. "I think I will have to be more detailed in my words."


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:** Did you know in JJ's world, three times a week means once every three weeks? I'm so sorry, but I have had very little time to update. With familial duties and and Midterms, I have not had a lot of leg room for writing and posting. Maybe the three times a week will come soon, but right now my writing is flowing like molasses out of my fingers in between the demanding squeals of my family and professors. I super freakin' want to be done with this story before it eats up the rest of my soul. Anyway, thanks for reading this rant and thank you to my readers, reviewers, and followers. Enjoy the chapter. Read and review, please.

* * *

Blaise was led to the dungeons by the scruff of the neck like a misguided puppy. Snape held onto him with an iron fist, the pressure telling the younger wizard on how angry his Head of House was. They came to the portrait entrance, and the boy was pushed through and maneuvered to a Common Room seat, other students scattering about and disappearing with a look from their Ultimate Superior. That seat is where he received the reaming of his life. It started with an 'I'm utterly disappointed in you, Blaise' and ended with a 'Dare to get caught again, and I will have you expelled!'

Snape whirled around and stalked out of the Common Room, his black cape billowing with each dramatic step. As the portrait door closed, his fellow vipers burst out of their hidey-holes and berated him with insults and questions.

"You lost us 150 points!"

"We didn't even have 150 points to begin with!"

"Was the Blood Traitor Vixen as saucy and she looks?"

Blaise was unsure how long he sat there with everyone practically foaming from their mouths for information, but Draco popped his big blond head into the crowd and pulled him towards the safety of the Seventh Year Dormitory, and hurried and cast a 'Member's Only' Charm on the door.

"Mate!" wheezed Draco and he whistled at the barrier separating them both from the wild crowd. "You're lucky I was here and care enough to save you. But now thinking about it, you lost Slytherin-"

"One hundred and fifty points. I know." Blaise shrugged and lay down on his bed with a satisfied exhale, tucking his hands behind his head and smirking up at the ceiling. "But it was damned near worth it, Draco."

Draco leaned against one of the posters of Blaise's bed. "Do you fancy the She-Weasel, Blaise? I tell you now, be careful. She's nothing but vapid atrocity on shapely, freckled legs. And not to mention you've made this abomination public. Have fun with her brother."

"Pansy will distract him."

"Pansy is incredible. I admit, she is the finest distraction the Slytherin House ever begat. Nevertheless, she has her limitations. Her whispering sweet nothings into Weasley's ears will only save you from death, not torture."

"I can handle Weasley, Draco. I'm insulted by your utter lack of faith in me."

"Don't be like that. I'm only warning you, and it's not just one brother you'll have to worry about," Draco reminded grimly and furrowed his brow, gazing off into a corner. "So forgive me if I find this odd, but why did you get involved with the Weaselette? And why so public? Why didn't you make it quicker and take a trip to her hovel of a home, knock on the door, and introduce yourself as their Darling's Deflowerer."

"At least I can claim that title," sneered Blaise. "Tell me, is Granger ever going to let you pluck her from the garden?"

Draco curled his lips into a feral scowl. "You will not talk of her like that, Zabini. And not that it's any of your ruddy business, but she promised me her Snitch today."

"Really?" asked Blaise, his tone heavy with doubt.

Sagging his shoulders, Draco muttered sullenly, "Sort of, yes."

Frowning whilst quirking an intrigued brow, Blaise asked, "Then why the sudden mood swing? Shouldn't you be out celebrating and rubbing your pride in Theo's ego? Where is he anyway?"

Shrugging, Draco sat on the edge of his bed facing Blaise, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees. "No idea where he is. As for my mood, I'm just dandy. I've got the teasing little tart of my dreams, and everything is going to be swell."

"I give it a week," his mate flatly said.

Draco sputtered, "A week? A bloody week? That's your blessing, you Devil Shagging Plonker! I'll have you know that my relationship with Granger will be-"

"Disastrous," Blaise finished with a ginger nod and a smirk in place.

"It won't be di-"

"You can't even lie about this. Tell me, how did it feel when Granger finally agreed to be yours for the taking?"

"It felt damn right as it should be!" Draco barked, a flush heating up his cheeks. He then shook his head and scoffed, "No, it didn't. I thought, you know, it was going to be like how it was when I was trying to woo her. Like seducing her in the broom closets and what have you."

Blaise's smirk deepened and his eyes widened wickedly. He situated himself deeper into his mattress and crossed his legs and the ankle, striking a lazy but knowing posture. "She's going make you her bitch, isn't she?"

"Zabini, please-"

"She's going to train you up good."

"Don't be-"

"Teach you how to sit."

"You're being immature."

"Teach you how to shake hands."

"Is that some weird double entendre?"

"And then she's going to debark you. You won't be allowed to defend yourself, Mate. The only way you're going to get her attention is by pressing your wet, sopping nose against her arse."

"Well, actually-"

"You could bite her, but she'll slap your nose often enough that you'll come to expect pain every time you nip at her."

"…"

"And then when she's finally got you ready for the Annual Mongrel Show, your coat and tail all nice and groomed and shiny, she's going to take you to the Animal-Healer and…You know where I'm going with this, right?"

"Yes," Draco growled out between clenched teeth.

"And then she's going to put a bright red cone with golden stripes around your neck in honor of her house colors to keep you from licking your stitches. You'll whimper at her, but heartless, boyfriend-controlling witches are immune to the pitiful whines and the puppy eyes of their wizards, my good friend. Get out now before she sucks out your soul. I mean, at least hand her over to Theo. He could probably handle her."

Leaping to his feet, Draco took a step towards Blaise's bed and hissed at him, "What the effin' hell did you say? You think Nott could handle that prissy little tw-"

"Yeah, I do." Blaise swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up to face Draco, both standing in each other's space and ready for a duel. Jutting out his chin, the dark-skinned wizard said, "I really do. The reason being that Nott will simply roll over and let that bint do her work on him. No fuss and no muss. You," he pointed at Draco, "are going to put up a fight and make it harder on yourself. Dump her tomorrow and forget that you want to shag her brains out. Think about your masculinity, Malfoy."

Draco's lips formed into a snarl, and he took a step closer, his face inches away from Blaise. "What'd you say about Theo? Think he's pathetic do you? Bet he could've had a collection of the She-Weasel's knickers by now including Lovegood's, Wanker. Think you're so smooth wi-"

_PUNCH!_

Draco stumbled back, clutching his bleeding nose and muffling curses into his palm. His knees hit the back of his bed and he fell backwards onto his bed, wiggling and kicking his legs in aggravation and agony. Bloody, fedging, pillock of an arsehole!

He vaguely heard the door open and irritated groan of a female echo through the room.

"Zabini," he heard Pansy say as she stomped into the room, her footsteps coming closer to him. "What did you do?"

"Are you alright, Pansy? You look like you've been-"

"I'm fine," she snapped at Blaise and then hovered over Draco, a worried frown on her lips. Pointing her wand at him, she said, "I've never done this before so don't get mad if I botch it. _Episkey._"

The broken bones in his nose crackled and painfully shifted back in alignment, and Draco growled out a, "Shit, that hurt like a pregnant mum," and flushed when letting one of his secrets slip out. Thankfully, the other two didn't take notice, for Pansy whirled around and tilted her head back to glare up at Blaise.

"You broke his nose, you complete arse!"

"The wanker deserved it! Going off about-"

"Like hell I deserved it, you traitorous dozy! Going on about how Granger-"

"Gods!" Pansy wailed, tilting her head back in, her peeved features shooting towards the ceiling. Her exclamation caused the two boys to seize their bicker but she hadn't noticed and went on finishing her rant. "I can't stand that…that…"

"Be careful with your words, Pansy," Draco said while wiping at his nose to clean off the blood.

"Yeah, be careful with your words, Parkinson," Blaise sniggered. "Wouldn't want ill words to be spoken of Darling Draco's master. Not sure if you heard, but Granger has finally sunk her claws into him."

Pansy's eyes snapped from the stone ceiling to Blaise and then to Draco and whispered, "No. She didn't."

Draco indigently replied, "Excuse me but I've wanted her for a long time and now that I have her-"

Pansy shook her head and spoke, "It's not that." She sighed and took up residence on Draco's bed. "Have you told Theo yet?"

Draco shook his head, an absurdly guilty feeling seeping through him and taking up residence inside his stomach cavity. Which was completely preposterous! He should be rubbing this news into the bloke's face, completed with thumbs in ears and tongue waggling with a series chortles and 'na na nas'. Because really, Granger was his...even if she was rather…bossy. All he had to do was a wait a bit, tell his parents about her, and then claim her good and proper. If he was lucky, he could get her pregnant the first time, thus, completing his first claim that he could get that Mudblood with child by Christmas.

Wait! What month was it again?

Ignoring the consistent flow of blood pouring from his nose, he planted himself in on his chair next to his desk and rifled through his desk to find his planner.

"What are you doing?" asked Blaise and Draco was unsure as to why he did because the other wizard certainly didn't sound like he cared all that much. Pansy on the other hand…

"Yes, what are you doing? You should go to Madam Pomfrey and tell her to stop your nosebleed," she said in a downtrodden and small voice.

In mid-rifle, Draco frowned and turned towards his friend and asked, "Are you okay, Pansy? You sound-"

"No, I'm not okay, you stupid flippin' cad!" she screeched and fell backwards on his bed and turned over to bury her face into his comforter, banging her fists into the mattress.

"Pansy?" Blaise said inquiringly.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked and both boys flinched when a howl of despair, muffled by a sheet, rocked the entire room. They gulped at seeing the walls shake a little.

Pansy flipped back over, getting on her hands and knees, facing Blaise, her teeth bared in feral warning. "This is your fault!" she yelled at him and lunged at him, using the give of the mattress for leverage and pounced on Blaise, colliding the flat palms of her hands with wherever she could manage.

The wind was knocked out of Blaise as Pansy collided with him while he backwardly descended onto his mattress with 110 pound girl beating his chest and trying to reach his face.

"Geroff," he grumbled while shielding his face, the pride and joy of his life.

"You unbelievable arsehole! Do you have any idea what you've done?! What the bloody hell did you think was going to come…don't give me that look, you pervert! What did you think would _happen_ when shagging Ginny Weasley in a public setting where people and portraits could report to the Headmaster and to Ron?!"

Oh, the agony! She got him in the lip and eye. Tenderly, he poked at his swelling mouth while blinking away the sting he received when her hand slapped his eyelid.

"Pardon?" he wheezed.

Whirling her head to face Draco, she uncaringly climbed off of Blaise, ensuring her knee collided and squished not so gently with his groin. The wizard at his desk stared at her like she has sprouted an extra three heads and was clutching the back of his chair in fear.

"Ron broke with me," she told him calmly, unable to prevent the lone tear escaping down her left cheek. "It's over."

"Why are you crying, you daft bint? You're free of the codswalloping, moneyless oaf. I don't need you to distract him anymore. I have Granger," he told her and inwardly cursed when Pansy's bottom lip trembled.

"Right," she sniffled and straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair with a flick of her hand. "You think so, do you? Now that I'm no longer needed to keep Weasley occupied, you think you're in the clear, is that it? What do you think is going to happen when he starts attending classes regularly? Now that I'm not doing his homework for him, who do you think he's going to go to for help? The same person he's been going to for the last six years, that's who!"

Draco didn't like where Pansy was taking her rant. Clearly, she developed some feelings for that Freckled Blood Traitor and was only upset that she no longer was being worshipped by him. Alas and indeed, it was always quite troubling to be without companionship, especially if regular shags were part of the deal.

"Look, I get that you may have developed a fascination with Weasley, but he's not going to be knocking on Granger's door. And, Pansy, if you really want that…that…_thing_ back in your life, I'm sure you could get him back. He's a simple-minded creature with merely basic needs to satisfy himself."

Pansy closed her eyes, her lips pressed thinly together, shaking her head in denial. "That's the biggest load of shite I've ever heard. Weasley is not a _thing_, though I've very fond of his, he won't be persuaded." She sent a nasty glare Blaise's way. He was curled up into the fetal position with a pained expression, his hand snug between his legs. "And it's his fault! Ron was furious with me! He thought…Well, he thought all kinds of things, actually, but Draco…now that he and I are finished-"

"We're not getting back together," he cut in vastly, blanching into a deathly color of skin tone.

Cocking her hip to the side and folding her arms, Pansy sputtered, "Like I'd take your pale-arsed, fumble-fingered fu-"

The door burst open and Draco's heart leapt into the back of his throat, thinking it was Theo out for blood. His blood. But was relieved to find Little Pucey, wand in one hand and letter in the other, standing at the threshold with a wrinkled brow of determination. The relief quickly passed and perplexed anger settled in.

"Inferior Pucey, how dare you strip the Member's Only spell from the Superiors' Chamber?!"

Little Pucey actually rolled his eyes and boldly stepped further into the dormitory and made a small, and quite adorable ahem sound and announced, "A few hours ago my Blood Superior asked of me to form and actively participate in an investigation concerning a bird he's taken a fancy to."

"Taylor," squeaked Pansy, eyes widening in alarm. "Tell your brother that-"

"This doesn't concern you. Like I was saying, my Blood Superior has taken a fancy to a girl."

"Adrian has finally found himself a bint, has he?" Draco chuckled. "She goes here?"

"Draco," Pansy said edgily. "I wanted to tell you before anything happened. I wasn't going to go through with it because of Ron, but-"

"_Silencio!_" Little Taylor bellowed, pointing his wand at Pansy and muting her moving lips. "Now where was I?"

"Dead in the Seventh Year Dormitory," hissed Draco and started towards Little Pucey. "Inferior, you have breached-"

The boy straightened his spine and waited until the perfect moment, right when Draco was close, when he threw the letter at Draco and twirled around and bolted down the stairs and into the Common Room, dashing madly out the entrance.

Draco glowered at the crinkled envelope laying discarded at his feet and stooped down to pick it up. Pansy hurriedly lifted the Silent Spell off of herself and firmly said to him, "Stop, Draco. Don't pick it up. Not until I-"

But it was too late. With the envelope in hand, Draco frowned back at Pansy in confusion. The letter flew from his hand and elevated so it hovered in front of his face.

"Malfoy! Nott!" Adrian spat out in a crinkled voice.

"…Pucey…?" Draco questioned insecurely. Since when did the bloke start addressing him by his surname?

"Malfoy! You treacherous thief! Is Nott with you? Bet he is!"

Curling his lip at his mate's attitude, Draco said, "No, he isn't, but I don't think I'm going to go fetch him if you're going to act like soddin' lunatic. Bloody hell, Adrian, what crawled up her buggerin' arse and died?"

"Granger's mine, dammit! How dare you go after another Viper's woman?!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Draco raised his hands and backed away from the letter, a snarl forming on his lips. "You runnin' your mouth off about Granger? You say she's your girl? Like hell she is, ponce. I don't know what you've been snorting, Pucey, but I don't think she even knows who you bloody are. Do you even know who she is? You haven't even talked to her, not even when you were in school so don't be-"

"Of course I know who she bleedin' is, dimwit! She's Hermione Effing Granger, and she's mine so bugger off! I know you've been prowling around her like a demented, obsessed sop. Theo, too."

"What's it to you, mate?! She's not yours! Have you lost your marbles? Did you suddenly wake up and fluffing decide that you wanted her or something? Wanking hell, you haven't seen her in over a year and-"

"She was at my party as a matter of fact, did you know?"

Draco stared dumbly at the suspended envelope, one eye brow raised. "No she wasn't. She was here at Hogwarts. I would have seen her if she had been at your bash."

"She was in my room," Adrian stated lecherously and sniggered dirtily. "Didn't leave until the next morning."

_Lies, lies, lies!_ Draco told himself. Adrian was lying! Granger would have never…She was at Hogwarts that night, tucked safely and snuggly inside her cozy bed, dreaming of blond-haired babies.

"You're lying!" he exclaimed and then turned to Pansy who looked like a cornered mouse in a pit full of snakes. Her back was flat against the stone wall, eyes darting everywhere for an exit, and her breathing erratic.

"Pansy, tell him he's lying," he demanded. "You were here. You must have seen her out and about."

She opened her mouth to say something, but Adrian interrupted. "Ahhh, Pansy. You're there, too. Weren't we just discussing wonderful plans only a couple of hours ago? Hmmm?"

"It's over," Pansy hoarsely said. "I'm not doing it. There's nothing in it for me anymore."

"Nothing in it for you?" Adrian questioned in a sing-song voice and then laughed, the envelope turning back to face Draco. "Do you want to know what she did? What she promised to do?"

"Draco, don't listen to him," she rushed out and sprinted towards the envelope, grabbing the parchment and shredding it to bits violently and then stomping on the pieces and then smiled in victory which was short-lived when Draco gave her a distrustful frown.

"What was he talking about?"

Debating on whether to lie or not, she chose to tell the truth, knowing she had only postponed Adrian for a little while. "Obviously he's taken a fancy to Granger, too. What does that girl have? A butterbeer flavored p-"

"Pansy, what was he saying about plans?"

Looking down at her shoes, she shifted on them nervously and said, "I may have done something extremely selfish but, Draco," she lifted her gaze pleadingly, "I'm not going to do it anymore; I promise."

"Anymore," he repeated dully and sniffed. "So whatever it was, you were going to go through with it."

Hesitantly, she confirmed, "Yes."

"And?"

"I'll tell you but try not too upset with me. I…I like Weasley. A lot. You have to understand, Draco, better than anyone that I couldn't have just brought him home for the hols. You know how Daddy is .And Mummy knew, and she wasn't entirely keen on the relationship. Adrian caught me in a weak moment."

_A few hours before…_

_Ick! How revolting! Adrian was cuckoo over Granger! Were there no more self-respecting Slytherins anymore?! Were all of them dunderheaded morons! But...could she say no?_

"_So…" Pansy bit her lip, guilt pooling sourly in her belly. "What do you want me to do?"_

"_I thought for sure you would run," Adrian chuckled. "But since you haven't, I'm even more curious as to why you want the house and money."_

"_It was not a part of the agreement for you to know why. Now on with it. What do you want me to do?"_

"_I want you to get friendly with Granger. I want you to persuade her in my direction. Gain her trust, show interest in her life, become her friend. I need her to open up to you about me and then for you to casually inform her of what a catch I am."_

"_You want me to lie, Adrian? You want me to send a lamb into the slaughter?" Pansy joked, her guilt turning into uneasiness. Yes, the boy was handsome, funny, and could be sweet. But he was a tad possessive and not in the cute way, thus, the reason why she ended their fling the year prior. He had trouble handling that her best friends were boys and were his friends, too; therefore, he knew all the degrading shite they talked about when it came to girls. When she suggested they separate, he predictably got angry and spread the rumor that she was an easy lay. Which was only half-true. She did not go around and shag every guy in her path, but she did shag on the first date._

"_Look, Pans, I know we've had our ups and downs, but this girl is the one," he said softly and she refrained from belching out a snort accompanied by an eye roll._

"_Don't be silly, Adrian. The one? Please don't throw that icky, Hufflepuff shmomance at me. I know you! You just want to shag her and get her out of your system."_

"_It's more than that. I think I-"_

"_You are a sad, sad little man."_

"_Grr, Woman! Will you help me?! You said you would!"_

_Biting her bottom lip, Pansy apprehensively stared down the floating envelope. There were a million reasons as to why she should say no and sprint to the pit, but the idea of having Ron and a safety net to fall back if and probably when her parents disowned her kept her feet planted to the floor. So she decided to weigh the pros to make her feel better._

_One: She'd have Ron._

_Two: She'd have money._

_Three: She'd have the house._

_Four: Granger would be out of the picture for Draco; therefore, his parents wouldn't kill him._

_Five: Granger would be out of the picture for Theo; therefore, Draco wouldn't kill him._

_Nevertheless, the pros were appealing to her, but the cons were there, as well and screamed just as loudly._

_One: By shooing Granger in Adrian's direction, she would be betraying Draco and Theo, and if they ever found out she had anything to do with the Gryffindor's decision to choose the former Slytherin, they would never forgive her and hate her for a long time._

_Two: And this was hard for her to admit, which she wasn't going to admit anything deep, but Adrian was a little cuckoo. Granger may not know how to handle him or ever figure out how._

_Pansy did not care for Granger by any means, or at least not like every other effing person in the bloody school did, but Adrian was a jealous bastard. Unfortunately for Hermione, as of lately she was attracting boys like she was unknowingly in heat and was quite friendly with her male Housemates. Adrian would go bloody berserk each time Hermione decided she wanted to smile at Longbottom or say hello to Thomas._

_Oh, Dear!_

"_Pansy?" Adrian spoke with inquiry. "Are you still there?"_

"_Yes," she replied._

"_You're doing this, right?"_

_After a few, drawn out seconds, Pansy answered with as much conviction as she could muster, "Yes."_

"_Good. I expect an update in three days."_

"_Three days? I can't make Granger like me in three days," she balked incredulously. She and the girl were only decent together when drunk._

"_Then you better come up with some brilliant ideas because I will have her saying I'm her boyfriend by the beginning of November."_

"_That's not near enough time! That's only two weeks away! Be realistic about this."_

_As if he hadn't heard her, he said, "I also suspect she fancies someone else. I want them out of the picture, and I expect you to make sure that happens. I sent Taylor to sniff out the perpetrator, but he's not going to be able to beat off the git. That will be you. Anyway, love, gotta go. Give the Superiors my best." The envelope flattened and stilled and glided down in zigzags to the floor. With a sigh heavy with responsibility, she picked it up and bunched it in her hands and set out to find Granger. She might as well get started as soon as possible._

_The library came into view, and she was merely a few steps away from the entrance when Ron came around the corner appearing quite vexed. Going towards him with a look of concern, she wrapped her arms around his waist and asked, "What's wrong? You look upset."_

_He took her arms and untangled them from himself and pushed her away, glaring at her severely. Frowning up at him with concern, she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"_

"_You knew, didn't you? I mean…how could you not?"_

_Pansy scrunched up her face in confusion. "What are you talking about?" She went to hold him again, but he stepped away from her as if he was thoroughly sickened by her close proximity. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest while it slipped acidly down into her stomach. _

_Did he find out about Draco and Theo's plan?_

"_What did I know?" she asked carefully. "Because I assure you, I didn't."_

_He shook his head and bared his teeth like a feral lion. "You knew what was going on between Zabini and my sister, and you didn't tell me. Don't deny that you didn't know."_

_At a loss for words, completely thwarted by his reasons of anger, Pansy opened her mouth but nothing came out. She wasn't prepared for this. She wasn't prepared to explain to Ron about his sister and Zabini. She wasn't even sure she knew the whole story. Zabini broke Potter and Ron's sister up, and that was all she knew. Having the majority of her time spent with Ron left her out, not just one loop concerning her friends, but a lot that was going on in school._

"_I knew they were kind of together," Pansy finally offered, a wince present on her face. "I mean…everyone did. You did, too…didn't you?"_

"_I thought Ginny was tutoring him fulltime!"_

_Apparently he was more out of the loop than Pansy was._

"_And I thought you knew about them," Pansy replied. "I never meant to keep it from you."_

"_Yeah, I'm sure. I should've known, though. You're nothing but a lying Slytherin tart just like I always knew you were. Bloody hell, how could I've been so blind? We're over." He backed up a few steps to give her one last glare of utter disappointment before turning around and running away from her._

_To be continued..._


	45. Chapter 45

The pain between Blaise's legs no longer throbbed as harshly as it did a few minutes earlier. Or maybe it did. He wasn't particularly sure because Pansy's confession to Draco was positively epic. Epic enough to detract him away from his bruised family jewels.

Holy Shite, talk about betrayal!

From the comfortable, fetal-like position from his bed, Blaise popped up his head to catch a glimpse between the two fellow Slytherins and cringed when seeing how displeased Draco looked and Pansy being downright ashamed—as she should be. Though her backstabbing cunningness was going to get her kudo points from Salazar in the afterlife, the girl was surely going to burn for betraying another snake. This situation was truly tragic. Pansy and Draco were practically kin.

The thought of intervening fluttered across into Blaise's conscience. He supposed he could stick up for Pansy by saying Draco would have done the same thing if offered the same proposition under similar circumstances.

No, Blaise wouldn't lend a much-needed hand to the girl. He had his own bleedin' problems to worry about. Like how to stay alive until graduation. He was a marked man and Weasley was going to be out for blood.

"Please don't look at me like that, Draco. I'm sorry, okay. I really am, but I told you the reason why I took the offer. It wasn't just for me. I thought about you, too. You have to know what you and Granger have isn't going to last and Theo…he deserves better. Both of you do. With her out of the picture-"

"I don't want her out of the picture, Parkinson," Draco growled and then snorted in disgusted incredulity. "I can't believe you agreed to help Pucey when you promised you would do the same for me and Theo. You betrayed us!"

"No, it wasn't like that. It wasn't. I swear!"

"But it was exactly like that," he spat out. "You betrayed your friends, so you could have a happily ever after with your pauper of a boyfriend. And you know what, Pansy? This is typical for you. Why am I even surprised? You would do anything to keep a poor soddin' bloke in your life. I mean, you knew Flint was cheating on you from the beginning but flat-out ignored it because imagining a life without a pair of bullocks in your custody terrified you."

Maybe pushing Weasley into the Black Lake and letting the squid have at him would suffice. Mmm…probably not a good id-

What was Draco saying to Pansy?

"That's…" she gaped and shrilled in response, "That is completely untrue, Malfoy!"

"Which part? The part where the Weasel is a pauper, Flint's a slag, or you being a manipulative whore?"

Frowning, Blaise lifted his head up from the mattress again and glared at Draco. Now that last part was unnecessary.

"Oh, and you dated Pucey. Let's not forget how you pulverized him and stripped away his dignity. Bet he was glad to be rid of you."

"That's a lie! This is a complete lie!"

Yes, that was a lie, mused Blaise from the sidelines of his four-poster bed. Adrian had been quite fond of Pansy. A little too fond, perhaps.

"And then there was me, wasn't there? Slobbering all over me like _I_ was the one in heat, you traitorous bi-"

"Hey, mate, I think you've made it clear how utterly peeved you are at Pansy. She did something stupid. Get over it, princess. It's almost dinner, so go hunt down your mistress and maybe she'll feed you and then rub your belly. That'll make your tail waggle."

Expectedly, Draco snarled at him. "Screw you, Zabini! This doesn't concern you, so stay out of it!"

Blaise climbed off the bed and retorted, "But it does concern me because Pansy is my friend, and I don't tolerate overreacting wankers calling her names."

"She just beat the ever-living shite out of you and your prick, and you're going to stick up for her?"

Groin tingling at the recent memory, Blaise said, "Don't sugar coat it in nobility. You know you'd _Crucio _my arse if I ever spoke that way to her."

Pansy sniffled at him and wiped her eyes, smearing mascara down the sides of her face in black uneven streaks. "I'm still mad at you," she huffed and marched out of the dormitory but before crossing the threshold, she whirled around and pinned a murderous glare on Draco and yipped, "Speak that way to me again, I'll tell your mum, you foul nasty brat!"

The two boys watched her leave and then stared menacingly at each other for a long moment before Draco said, "I'm going to kill Pucey and after I've broken every bone in his body, I'm going after Weasley and then…" he exhaled, his brow wrinkling from troubled thoughts, "I've got to quickly breed with Granger and have her diagnosed as fertilized by Christmas to magnify and fully complete my plan. I told Pansy at the beginning of the agreement that I could have Granger by Christmas, but I told Theo I would have her with child. Unfortunately, though, I'm without a distraction for Weasley who will surely be sniffing around Granger once he realizes his sister is barking mad and Potter's…Question?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Blaise replied, "Answer."

"Why is Potter humping Daphne in poorly secluded parts of the school? I'm not thrilled that one of our ladies is being courted by that fame-seeking ponce. Surely, she's not that desperate for a shag. If that were the case then…well…I'm sure, one of our own could have remedied the situation for her. Not me, of course, but someone else."

"Not me," Blaise rushed out gruffly and coughed uncomfortably. "As for answering your question, I've no idea. All I know was that when Potter started getting some, so did I."

"Hmm," Draco noised and then nodded pensively. "Then Potter lives for the time being. His unnatural relation with Daphne is directly influencing the She-Weasel's current lack of foresight, therefore, lowing her standards and raping you in main corridors of the castle. Yes, yes. Blaise, continue being the sub or bottom, what have you, to her dom slash top. Granger cannot be distracted by her friend's abrupt sex-life when I'm trying to slither my way in, metaphorically and non."

"I thought you already got first dibs on her cherry."

"Yes, I know. Now all I have to do is weaken her resistance and then tell my parents and then I'm going to have some pie."

Draco smirked triumphantly with glazed over eyes, and Blaise pursed his lips in amusement and tapped his chin with his forefinger. "Draco?"

"Hush, Zabini! I'm imaging what it's going to be like. _Glorious,_" he sang the last part.

"Right. Well, before she breaks out the leash and spiked collar, you have completely glossed over the Weasel problem and outright forgot the biggest one."

"Hmm? What's that?"

"Theo."

* * *

The corridors were full of students who were heading towards the Great Hall for supper. Hermione turned a corner and gasped when feeling a tug on her jumper, strong enough to make her stumble into the neighboring broom closet. Finding her balance once the hand let go, the door closed behind her and she turned to face Theodore with a sigh.

"Theodore, I have to ta-"

He silenced her with a kiss, and she tried to muffle a 'stop this very instant' response, but the boy plainly ignored it. But that was not the worst part. Tingles were started nipping at her toes, and her heart started hammering against her chest, and her logical reasoning was fading with each nip he gave her bottom lip.

Just stand still, Hermione, she told herself. Maybe if you don't move or respond, he'll lose interest and go away.

Yes, logical reasoning had flown the coop for sure. Instead of pushing him away or even using her wand, all she had done was think at the unsuspecting boy when she should be prying his mouth off from hers. She had chosen Draco and kissing another boy wasn't a practical way of starting a relationship.

And why was she still not doing anything about it?!

Leaning her head back, she pulled away from Theodore, licking her lips and inhaling deeply. He tasted of coconut and chocolate. He tasted of premeditated snog, that's what he tasted of! He was such a naughty boy with a naughty mouth.

"I've missed you," he told her with a smirk and leaned forward to pepper kisses across her forehead, mumbling into her skin, "I've missed _talking_ to you."

"I've missed you, too," Hermione replied languorously, humming in delight when Theodore's lips travelled to her temple and then to her cheek, down to her jawline. When he swiped his tongue and nipped at skin, she bristled and mentally slapped herself in the face. Taking a step back, she firmly told him, "We can't do this," and placed her hands on his chest to keep the distance distant.

"You're so pretty," he cooed warmly, like he hadn't heard what she said.

A grateful, flattered smile spread across her face. "Thank you, Theodore. I mean…No!" She shook her head to clear the hormonal fog clouding her conscious. "No, no, no!"

"Yes," Theo said firmly, placing a hand on the side of her neck, his thumb caressing underneath her jaw.

Anxiety spread through Hermione's chest and stomach, knowing she could no longer continue this shameful debacle of letting both boys ravish her to the brink of incoherency. Her behavior in the last month had been unmistakably obscene and…Damn, he was kissing her again. Theodore had simply moved her hands away from him and had trapped her between him and the wall and for Merlin's Sake! Her feet weren't even touching the ground. How had he lifted her and she not notice? He was a quick one, that Nott.

His lips lifted from her lips with an audibly suctioned sound and then buried them in the crook of her neck and Hermione whimpered for multiple reasons. When his left hand found something squeezable, she yelped, "I'm with Draco!"

And to her utter astonishment, that did not stop him from squishing her breast nor did it halt his ministrations on her neck. Actually, he again made no indication that he heard her, but how could he have not? She said it so loudly, and his ear was right there. Ooooh, his ear. It looked rather tasty, did it not? A little bite on the lobe wouldn't be all that bad. Wait, no!

"Theodore, I said I'm with Draco now," she repeated forcefully and winced when she felt the boy's canines scrape across her jugular. "You're going to leave a mark, and Draco won't like that, so you should stop."

A shudder racked through her body when feeling his teeth tug at her pulse. He whispered into her flesh, "Why don't make me, Granger?"

That should not have been sexy.

But it was.

Breathing erratically, Hermione started to think about Draco and how cute he was and the reasons why she liked him and how very upset he'd be when seeing a mark on her neck not created by him. Her thinking did nothing, not even inducing guilt, but let her mind wander on how bare the right side of her neck would be compared to the left. Perhaps Draco would like to make Theo's mark a twin.

She was a disgusting individual who should have never returned to Hogwarts.

"Theodore," she groaned. "Please, stop."

He left the curve of her neck with a departing swipe of the tongue and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of her mouth. "You don't really want me to, do you?"

"Um…"

His head found itself tucked underneath her chin, and she could feel his breaths tickling the skin beneath her open collar.

"I love you, Granger. I've wanted to say that all week," he said and Hermione looked over at the door, imagining herself wriggling out of the boy's hold, dashing out of this cursed closet, sprinting to her dorm, packing all of her belongings, and fleeing back home to Surrey. She'd be home within an hour most likely.

Eventually, she replied, "I know."

Theodore slightly scowled at her response, for he was hoping for an 'I love you, too, Theodore, and Draco's a wanker.' No such luck.

And bloody damn, poncing hell about her choosing Draco. Yeah, he got word from a bitterly dejected Coroner who had overheard Granger and the git talking about future plans and what have you. Theodore briefly fancied the idea of finding a hole and lodge there for all eternity in self-pity or wait until that fickle tease departed from the Head Dormitories for dinner and attack her and seduce her into changing her mind. All he'd accomplished was seducing her.

The broom closet door creaked open and both students stiffened and looked at the figure entering. Hermione groaned in annoyance and Theodore cocked an eyebrow at the lad.

"Inferior, I'm with a lady," he told Little Pucey who frowned at the odd scene before him.

"I've come bearing news, Superior Nott, from my Blood Superior," the boy said and then made an ahem sound and continued, "He will be paying Hogsmeade a visit next weekend and-"

"He will do no such thing!" shrieked Hermione and maneuvered herself out of Theodore's grasp and marched towards the boy, hands on her hips. "You tell him to stay put wherever he is!"

It was Theodore's turn to frown. Why was his lady putting up such a fuss when his mate was simply paying a visit?

"Granger, why so shrill? It's only Adrian. He's my friend…" His last word faded when something gleamed in Little Pucey's. Something akin to a wicked secret.

"Yes, Granger. My brother is friends with Superior Nott and Superior Malfoy. He wants to see them both, is all," chirped Little Pucey, widening his eyes to emphasize his angelic features causing Hermione to narrow her eyes and then widen them in alarm.

"No," Hermione stated firmly, shaking her head for good measure. "He's not coming to Hogsmeade."

"Darling," Theodore cooed and went up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on top of her curly head. "He's my friend. I don't mind if he pays a visit. I hardly got to see him on his birthday."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Hermione stilled in his arms. Great Gods! Adrian's birthday! Theodore had been there? Draco probably, too. Horrified, she looked at Taylor who slit his eyes, his mask of innocence gone and replaced with a calculating glare.

"I forbid you to see him," Hermione blurted and turned around in Theodore's arms and looked up at him demandingly, placing her palm flat against his chest. He smiled quizzically down at her and cocked a brow.

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"And why is that, my love?" he murmured and brushed his lips over her forehead sweetly and inhaled deeply.

"Because…" Hermione paused, trying to think of a quick excuse and then indulged in suicidal fantasies when saying one, "We're going to be busy."

"Are we? Doing what, may I ask?"

_Think fast! Think fast!_

"Well," Hermione nervously scoffed and coyly glanced away. "You won't know if you go see your silly little friend."

Theodore was silent for a moment, giving her the impression he was thinking of how to respond so the events of next weekend could be in his favor.

"Will _you_ be mine?" he asked clearly with emphasis on the word 'you'.

Hermione should have seen that coming but her stomach twisted in surprise. Blinking at his question, she licked her lips pensively and nibbled on her bottom lip, wondering if shirking Draco and donning Theodore would make next weekend any less traumatizing for the three of them. Four when counting Adrian. She wasn't an idiot. Adrian was not paying a visit to Hogsmeade to have a lovely chat and butterbeer with his Hogwarts mates. Somehow he found out about her, Draco, and Theo and was placing his intrusive…_thing_ into the mix to see if he could out-piss the other two.

Ignoring Theodore's question, she twisted her lips in a puffy frown and said, "I want to go home."

To be continued...

* * *

A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have put this fic on their favorite list.

Thank you to those who understand that life is crazy and are completely cool with my slow updates and are diggning this crazy, beserk fic. :)

Read and Review, please, and tell me what you think. Hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!


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